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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081380">The Unwavering Answer</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalKnix/pseuds/CrystalKnix'>CrystalKnix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:47:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>41,959</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081380</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystalKnix/pseuds/CrystalKnix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(Draft Version of 'The Final Answer', the ending isn't here)</p><p>Dream didn't know what he'd accomplish by going there...</p><p>He just knows he had to try.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Hear Me Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! So this is the first chapter of 13 chapters I have to make for this AU (I sincerely hope no one from Tumblr reads this as this is not gonna be uploaded to Tumblr for at least two more weeks and is supposed to be a surprise project I'm working on). So yeah, this is the start of a 36 Questions AU that I'm making. I sincerely apologize if it's lacking and stuff since I wrote this at like midnight. This is just a draft though, so if it does disappear at some point... that just means I deleted this so I can upload the final version.</p><p>Anyway, pls do tell me what you think and if there are some points you think I should add or remove, pls do tell me as I really don't have a beta reader for this (my friend is not the type to care for shipping so I'm writing this without supervision lol). Anyway, hope you guys like this! I'll be updating one chapter per day. So... Bye!</p><p>Just a little note: I wrote this at like... 12 in the morning. I am in actual pain hnggggggggggggggggggg.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~~~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dream, we should watch treasure planet, ba</em>
  <em>― Babe.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“WHAT.”</em>
</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dream, you have been the most fantastic partner to watch treasure planet with… heh… I’ve known you for so long now, I can’t imagine a life without you. I love you. Weve gone through our own tragedies… but, would you do me the honor of making me the happiest man on earth? Dream, will you marry me?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You were my favorite person ever to watch a movie with. Yes. Yes, I will marry you!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“YEAHHHHHHH! WOOOOOOOOOO!”</em>
</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh, can you say that again?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“About the wedding?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yeah.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh my</em>
  <em>― but Dream we’ve been over this.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What? Do you like hearing my voice that much?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I just want to hear your plans again. I want to hear about the big wedding you’ve planned out.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“No.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“A lot of guests?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“This is Insane. Okay, fine. It’s gonna be a big wedding and it’s… wait for it… Treasure Planet-themed oooooh. Cool, right?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It sounds perfect, star.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t know about the guests though… Can’t really confirm that.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Hm. What? What about the guests?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Well… Funny story, babe…”</em>
</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>
  <em>“Dream!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Oh, uh, hello!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Pogtopia has a meeting, remember?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Sorry.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What? Why?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Just... you wouldn’t understand, Funds.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What are you doing…? Dream… are you?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes, Funds. I am.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“… why?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’m just… he promised me something. Something neither Wilbur nor Pogtopia can give me. I’m…”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Okay… but… you still love me, right?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“… of course.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Promise?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’ll always love you, Fundy.”</em>
</p>
<p>~~~~~</p>
<p>“Really?” Dream shivered, the rain pelting heavily against his mask as he wandered through the desert. He held back a frustrated groan. Seriously, a rain storm in the middle of a desert? It seems Lady Luck has abandoned him at this crucial moment in time. Not that he could blame her. He’s pushed everyone away. His friends. His husband. Dream sighed, peering down at the compass in his hands. The arrow pointed forward, leading him towards his husband… the husband he left… the husband he said he didn’t care for.</p>
<p> “Where are you, Fundy?” Dream trudged through the wet sand, each step heavier than the last. If you had asked him two weeks ago what he’d be doing in the future, it certainly wouldn’t have involved anything to do with traversing through some dead and horrible land. Dream couldn’t believe it. Of all places, why did Fundy have to choose the badlands? He held back the string of curses rising in his throat, exhaustion seeping into his aching bones. “Come on… Give me a sign, Funds… Just… Anything, please.”</p>
<p>The previous days have been… <em>difficult</em>. He’d done many acts he can’t say he’s proud of… <em><strike>but he would never take them back</strike></em>. He did what he had to. He just didn’t expect to lose his husband in the process. One moment Fundy’s by his side, his head nuzzled into his neck as they sat near the warmth of a fireplace, and the next his husband was gone. Fundy had left his ring on their bed, but he didn’t leave a note. <em><strike>No. Dream had to force it out of the newcomer’s mouth to even get a hint of where his husband had run off to.</strike></em></p>
<p>“What…?” He paused, the distant flutter of a familiar piece of clothing catching his attention. He began to run, the outline of a small cabin coming into view as he stumbled his way towards… a clothesline? He took a shaky breath, reaching out a hand to pluck the hat off the clothespin it was hanging onto. It was soaking wet, a bundle of black and orange cloth… but he would recognize it anywhere. Fundy loved his hat as much as Dream loved his mask. His attention turned towards the debilitated cabin. Did Fundy live there?</p>
<p>“Please. Please. <em>Please</em>.” Do not let this be a fluke. He headed towards the cabin, yelping as his leg gets caught on the sand. He lands against the door with a loud thud, the house trembling violently at his sudden impact. He gripped at the edges. His head pressed against the thin wood’s surface. Worry settled in his gut… maybe Fundy wasn’t here. Maybe… He stilled. The muffled sound of shoes scuffing against the floor ringing through his ears. “Fundy…? Funds? I… I know you’re there, Fundy. Just… <em>please</em>… let me in, star.”</p>
<p>He’s met with silence. His heart aches with regret. He won’t delude himself. This is his fault. But… they could still work it out. It couldn’t be over, could it? His fingers dig into the wood, splinters breaking through his skin. Dream couldn’t care less. He wanted his husband to open the door. He wanted to hold him in a tight embrace and apologize, beg for him to come home. At the very least, he wanted to see Fundy’s face one last time. “Okay… maybe I’m wrong… maybe you’re not my husband, my Fundy.” He lets out a sigh.</p>
<p><em>“Whoever you are…” </em>He swallowed down the bitter taste of sadness in his throat, his shoulders shaking with unshed tears. He forced himself to continue, a sliver of hope that Fundy would pity him enough to hear him out.</p>
<p><em>“You share a lot in common with my husband... Funds.”</em> The nickname felt foreign against his tongue, as if he hadn’t used it in a long time. Maybe he hasn’t. He pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to think about it. Not now.</p>
<p><em>“You have the same hat...”</em> He hears a strained gasp through the door, and his heart begins to flutter. He holds the hat to his chest, caressing the cold, soaked cloth with calloused hands. Fundy would want it back, right?</p>
<p><em>“So either he sold it or maybe you stole it.”</em> Fundy would never, Dream knew that. It was one of the few traits they shared. Fundy hated when Dream washed his hat for him, and Dream hated when Fundy cleaned his mask for him.</p>
<p><em>“And didn't change the tags...” </em>His fingers reached into the hat, feeling the small patch of paper crudely taped onto its surface. He didn’t need to look to know that ‘F.S.” was written on the parchment.</p>
<p><em>“So I feel like I know you, like we've met before.” </em>He closes his eyes, the distant memory of warm lights danced across his vision. He recalls the warm hand tucked into his own, the gold-flecked brown eyes that stared up at him with a light that could rival the brightest of stars.</p>
<p><em>“I walked like 27 hours…”</em> It was an hour at most, a second in the greater scheme of life and history… but it felt like a lifetime. Dream had wandered through the land, sick and delirious with the idea that he might have been too late, that his husband had gone to a place he would never find.</p>
<p><em>“…to get to this place. If you were him…” </em>He leaned against the door, wondering if Fundy was doing the same. He couldn’t feel the other’s warmth, blocked by the door and the chill of the rain that clung to his very being. He’s never felt this cold before.</p>
<p><em>“You'd open up the door.” </em>He raised a hand, his knuckles knocking against the wooden barrier. He held a breathe… but the door did not budge. He sniffed, combing a hand through his hair. He deserved this. He knows he does. <em><strike>But that didn’t make it hurt any less.</strike></em></p>
<p><em>“I know you're there. I know you're listening.” </em>A murmur of noise reached his ears, the chime of metal creaking before falling into silence. He hopes Fundy didn’t lock the door on him. Fundy was there, just beyond the door. He was listening. That had to mean something, right?</p>
<p><em>“You deserve to get to know…” </em>Who did his husband deserve to know? Dream was many things, and he doubted that Fundy would wish to meet any one of them. He was a tyrant. A monster. A liar. A player. A traitor. A shitty husband. He was…</p>
<p><em>“The person you're trying your damnedest to let go. I know you care.” </em>Fundy must still have some love for him, right? He would have told him to leave if he didn’t, right? Dream held onto that. They could fix this. Fix them. Dream was willing to try… if Fundy was. He’d take it all back if it meant having his husband.</p>
<p><em>“Whoever you are…” </em>Fundy… <em>please</em>. Warm rolls of liquid dripped past his cheeks, a contrast to the rain that cruelly poured down onto his shivering form. He could feel the approaching cold of night in the air, his fingers trembling at the shift of temperature.</p>
<p><em>“You have a thousand reasons not to trust whoever I am.” </em>Fundy had no reason to, and Dream knew that. Their love was insane, a story of confusion and impossibilities. They were enemies. <em><strike>They were supposed to be enemies.</strike></em> Fundy should hate him and Dream should be indifferent to the fox’s very existence.</p>
<p><em>“For whatever it's worth…”</em> A sob seeps past his lips, his throat burning with a scream he dared not escape. His hand lets go of the door, resting on top of the porcelain mask he had worn for so long. In one move, he took it off.</p>
<p><em>“I also have no clue as to who I actually am.” </em>The wind slapped at his cheeks. He can’t recall the last time he’s taken off his mask.</p>
<p><em>“But I know, this is the first time in my life…” </em>He wore it on their date. He wore it on their wedding. Did Fundy even know what he looked like? Did he care?</p>
<p><em>“That I am sure.” </em>Did Dream want him to? Did he want Fundy to see him? To see beyond the mask? See the man behind the smile?</p>
<p><em>“I walked like 27 hours, replaced two boots during a storm.” </em>He would walk another mile of Fundy asked him to. He really would.</p>
<p><em>“And I won't leave ‘til you open up the door.” </em>He had to see him, even if it was just one final glimpse. A final farewell to a love story doomed from the beginning.</p>
<p>“I hear you there. I hear you listening.”<em> Fundy</em></p>
<p>“You deserve to get to know the person you're trying your damnedest to let go.” <em>If you can hear me…</em></p>
<p>“Hear me out.” <em>Know…</em></p>
<p>“Hear me out.”<em> That I love you…</em></p>
<p>“Hear me out.” <em>So, please…</em></p>
<p>“Let me in.” <em>Oh…</em></p>
<p>“Let me in.” <em>Please…</em></p>
<p>“Let me in.” <em>Forgive</em></p>
<p>“Let me in.” <em>Me…</em></p>
<p>“Funds, there are zombies everywhere, they’re going to eat me alive…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. One Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! So this is the second chapter... I hope you guys like it! Pls do tell me what you guys thing. Also, some of the dialogue here is from the actual podcast of 36 Questions. What do you guys think? Should I try to make the dialogue close to the podcast or should I just write whatever? XD</p><p>Anyway hope you like this (sorry if it's bad, I tend to write at like... 1 AM X,D)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dream froze, the door groaning against its hinges as it slowly creaks open. He takes a step back, hastily placing his mask back on as the face of his husband peering up at him from within the shadows of the cabin. Fundy had his arms crossed in front of his chest, a frown etched upon his face as those eyes – the eyes that used to hold nothing but love for him – regarded him with disdain. Dream wondered what he looked like to Fundy right now. A shivering and desperate mess in the rain or did he look as he usually did?</p><p>“I’m only letting you in so you don’t get eaten alive.” Fundy tore his gaze away, heart beating painfully in his chest. He couldn’t look into those beady black eyes drawn upon Dream’s mask. His hand gripped the brass handle of the door, resisting the urge to slam it on his ex-husband’s face. An inkling of fear settled in him as he stepped back to let the man in. How did Dream even find him? He watched as Dream trudged into the room, clumps of wet sand and dirt scattering onto the polished wood floor.</p><p>“So… you’re saying that I won’t be eaten alive in the house?” Dream swallowed down the dry chuckle rising in his throat, the callous warmth of the house did nothing to assure himself of what he sought to accomplish. Fundy’s gaze turned towards the floor, irritation flashing across his face. Dream winced, feeling the bits of sands falling off his trousers. Well, this wasn’t the best way to start apologizing to your husband. Dream had until the storm ends, maybe this won’t end in disaster… He hoped it didn’t.</p><p>“Not by zombies.” There’s an underlying growl beneath Fundy’s words, an anger he thought he had quenched surfacing as he heard the liar speak. Fundy shook his head. No. No. No. Just happy thoughts. Drywaters Law #1: No Negative Shit. Fundy forced himself to look into those painted black eyes, the simple smile on that porcelain mask eerie against the darkening land beyond the house. He gritted his teeth, a mockery of a smile. It would be rude of him to let the man die out in the rain, right?</p><p>“Please close the door behind you.” Fundy turned to walk further into the house, dragging his feet towards the living room. As much as he loathed his current and unexpected guest, he hoped he had a spare blanket to share. The man would catch a cold at this rate. <em><strike>Can Dream even get sick? Deities can’t get sick right?</strike></em></p><p>“Hi, Funds― and he’s walking away.” Dream sighed, catching a glimpse of Fundy’s tail disappearing into one of the rooms. He grasped the doorhandle, trying his best to gently close the door behind him, wincing as it let out a loud screech. This was good. They were together. In a house. With each other. Just the two of them. No one else. No L’Manburg. No Essempy. Just the two of them.  Dream just needed to get his husband to forgive him. <em><strike>Easier said than done.</strike></em> “He’s still mad, isn’t he? What can I do…? Wait did I―”</p><p>“I can hear you!” Fundy scowled, gripping at the pitiful white sheet that he had found draped over the couch. It was a flimsy thing, thin and certainly not enough to block out the cold, but it would have to do. A squeak broke him from his annoyance, he looked up at the small bat hanging from the ceiling. “Sorry… Did we wake you? Don’t worry, he’ll be leaving soon… No. No. It’s okay. Just… keep yourself warm up there, alright? Wouldn’t want to lose you too―”</p><p>“Who are you talking to?” Dream had made his way to the room, the low hush of a whisper drifting through the air. He stared pointedly at his husband who… was talking to the ceiling??? Not that Dream was going to judge him. His husband had… his own strange ways to cope and he didn’t want to get kicked out of the house by commenting about this one. Fundy spun on his heel, the hint of a smile on his face, disappearing as soon their gazes met.</p><p>“I’ll ask the questions, what are you doing here?” Fundy tossed the sheet at Dream – who caught it without fail – walking past the man to rummage through one of the few chests he had in his home. Niki insisted he place a fireplace in his home, oh he didn’t expect he’d be using it under such circumstances. His fingers curled around a familiar object, flashes of burning cloth racing through his mind as he pulled out his old <em><strike>trusty</strike></em> flint and steel. His ears began to twitch. No. No. No. No bad thoughts. Just good thoughts, Fundy.</p><p>“Fundy, you know why― <strong><em>Is that a bat?!</em></strong>” Dream looked up. The blanket in his hand nearly falling to the ground as he sees the black blur on the ceiling.</p><p>“Dream!” Fundy’s head snapped towards his ex-husband, his teeth clenched together so tightly that he feared they might crack. He was tired. <em>No.</em> He was exhausted. New life? HA! Fundy should’ve known that the peace wouldn’t last forever. Not when he got married to the literal god of― “Dream, you… Why are you here? I thought leaving the ring would have been hint enough for you. Did you… Did you follow me here? Why?”</p><p>“I didn’t follow you here, Fundy… I was worried. You can’t just leave without a note. How was I to know where you were? It’s a bad time, Fundy. The entire server is after my head. They would do anything to get to me, including―” Dream’s attention turned towards the flint and steel. He tensed. Fundy and fire… is not a good combination. He moved closer, the fox hybrid shuffling to move away from him. Dream paused, “Can you… put the flint and steel down? It’s very intimidating.”</p><p>“Wha― You know― You don’t― Like, do you actually know what you did – what you did to me – or have you lied to yourself so much you’ve developed selective memory?” Fundy shook his head, the word <em>‘memory’</em> a bitter taste against his tongue. He leaned against the cobblestone wall of the fireplace. The fire he had meant to start forgotten in favor of his ex-husband. He just wanted to get this over with. “Dream… I already have an amnesiac dad. I don’t need another angstfest in my life, okay?”  </p><p>“Fundy… I came here for you. Whatever I did… I can make up for it, I swear! Just… come home… please...” Dream wondered if Fundy could hear him, his voice barely a whisper. The fox hybrid’s ears were twitching so that had to mean something, right? “For me?”</p><p>“For <strong><em>you</em></strong>?!”</p><p>“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant!” Okay that was the wrong thing to say, oh no. Dream turned his attention back towards the ceiling, wringing his hands together as he thought of what he could say that wouldn’t get him tossed out the already broken windows. Small brown eyes met his gaze, a small squeak echoing through the room. A bat. A BAT! That was a good conversation to have, right? Fundy liked to talk about his pets… He loved to talk about his pets… “That’s… that’s a really cute bat.”</p><p>“Correct. Yes, they're the best bat in the world.” Fundy rolled his eyes, not missing the way Dream quickly changed the conversation. <em>Coward</em>.</p><p>“Where did they come from?” Dream held his breath, not missing the way Fundy spoke to him with such malice and hate. <em>He messed up</em>.</p><p>“I…” Fundy sighed, running his recently trimmed nails across the skin of his arms. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not with ex-husband of all people. “Their name is Batry and they’re here because I found them in a cave and invited them back here. They love flowers and have incredible comedic timing, and kind of my only friend right now, which I’m sure sounds insane to you but― you know what? I don’t have to explain things seeing as how you refuse to explain even the most basic things to me, like… did you even care for me?”</p><p>“Fundy, of course I―”</p><p>“You only care about the discs, right? What was that about, Dream? The wars were over! But <em>you</em>―”</p><p>“Okay, <em>wait</em>―”</p><p>“Do you even actually need food or sleep to function? Are you some sort of immortal god? Because I―”</p><p>“I wasn’t judging! They seem like a really chill bat.” Dream’s voice wavered, his breath quickening at the sudden confrontation. <em>This wasn’t how it was meant to be</em>.</p><p>“Well, they are very chill!” Fundy screeched, his hair bristling in absolute anger. Anger at what? Fundy… Fundy didn’t know… <em><strike>He didn’t want to fight</strike></em><strike>. <em>Not here in his newly made country of happiness, anyway</em>.</strike></p><p>“If they’re helping you get through this stressful time Fundy, I’m all for it. Really! I only came out here to ask you to do one thing.” Dream took his chance. He edged closer, hesitated before he placed a hand on his husband’s shoulder.</p><p>He held his breath as he waited for the fox hybrid’s answer. Fundy’s gaze turned towards the hand on his shoulder, “…one thing.”</p><p>“Yeah… one thing―” A loud crash rang throughout the house, the floor shaking beneath their feet at the violent intrusion. Dream quickly reacted, his hand moving to grip the back of Fundy’s jacket, pulling him closer as he summoned his sword to his hand. Fundy’s hat pressed onto the blade’s hilt. “What was that?”</p><p>“That would be the the sound of the shelf I just built, buckling under the weight of a hundred books.” <em>No</em>. Fundy did <em>not</em> appreciate being in his ex-husband’s protective embrace. <em>Shut up</em>.</p><p>“Oh.” Dream coughed, backing off immediately. His sword faded back into his inventory, and he placed Fundy’s hat on the sofa before he could accidentally rip it. Fundy would never forgive him if he destroyed it. <em><strike>Though Fundy did leave it out in the rain, what was up with that?</strike></em></p><p>“You know this place…” <em>Sucks</em>. The word was on the tip of his tongue, but Fundy refused to say it. Why would he give his ex-husband the impression that he was clearly unhappy? The sharp crack of glass followed soon after, “And there goes my collection of Ghostbur’s blue.”</p><p>“I… I know I’m not supposed to be asking questions, but… your entire family is here in the Essempy… Couldn’t they have helped you do all this work on the house?” The house was a mess, and Dream didn’t mean that lightly. He glanced at the misshapen windows, the floor made from different pieces of wood…</p><p>“They don’t know.” Dream’s head snapped to look at Fundy.</p><p>“They don’t know you’re moving?” Fundy winced at the accusatory tone. Did it matter if he had told them? <em><strike>No one would have noticed anyway…</strike></em></p><p>“Moving is such a strong word…” Fundy flailed his hands into the air, his own nervousness betraying him. The smell of smoke filled the air, Dream freezing in place as he looked at something behind Fundy. “Do you… Do you smell smoke?”</p><p>“Fundy.” Dream reached out once more, turning the fox hybrid to look at the small fire his flint and steel had caused. He nearly screamed when Fundy had flailed his hands, the flint and steel flying from his loose grip. “Ah yeah… that’s fire. Just stay calm. Just a small little fire, can you hand me some water?”</p><p>“Shit― Uh, sure.”</p><p>He felt the heat before he saw it. He looked down at the bucket of lava on his hands, frustration bubbling to the surface of his mind. He placed the bucket down, summoning his own bucket of water. The fire died just as quickly as it had been born. “Did you just hand me a bucket of <em>lava</em>?”</p><p>“What? Oh! Dammit I thought that was something else.” Fundy gripped the edges of his hair, groaning at the stupid mistake that might have destroyed everything he’s worked for. “Well, as you can see, you’re timing, as always, is impeccable. I’ve now broken the first law of Drywaters, thanks Dream.”</p><p>Dream tried to keep his composure, knowing that a sliver of his own annoyance would lead to nothing but heartbreak. He needed to fix this. Now. “One thing, Fundy. That’s all I’m asking for.”</p><p><em>“One thing…”</em> Fundy sighed, falling onto the sofa, his head hidden in his hands. He couldn’t look at his ex-husband. Not if he wanted to keep his own resolve.</p><p>“I came out here for one thing… And that little bitty one thing…” He had tried so hard. He had stayed for a man who he thought loved him. He was wrong.</p><p><em>“…was to forget about you.” </em>Fundy held back the sob in his throat. His fingers clung to the frayed edge of the couch, a momentary distraction from what was currently happening.</p><p><em>“But I guess I've learned something, that there's never really one thing.” </em>The fox hybrid flung his head back, exhaustion taking its claim as he remembered… <em>his tasks</em>.</p><p><em>“'Cause pretty quickly one thing, evolves into two, or three, or more.”</em> He didn’t realize running away from his responsibilities would mean… <em>more</em> responsibilities. That was not fair.</p><p><em>“For example… See the light in the hallway? It is always flickering. Ever since I installed it, it is always flickering.”</em> Dream frowned. That wasn’t right. His star was an excellent inventor. There’s… there’s no way one light bulb would be his great downfall.</p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>Fundy couldn’t make anything… he didn’t have the motivation to.</strike>
  </em>
</p><p><em>“After three days here, it was unbearable. My list grew: Two, fix the light bulb, and one, forget about you…”</em> Three days… Dream had only realized today… was that how long Fundy’s been gone?</p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>Fundy would visit the house they shared in those three days… hoping for a sign that he should stay.</strike>
  </em>
</p><p><em>“Went back home, stole a bulb. One of those new LEDs. Brought it home, put it in, but the redstones weren't connecting. Suddenly, they went on the fritz…”</em> No… His star was a master in redstone…</p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>Fundy couldn’t think straight in the past few days… not enough to make a simple light source light up.</strike>
  </em>
</p><p><em>“My list grew: Three, fix up the redstone. Two, fix the lightbulb, and one, forget about you…”</em> Fundy wasn’t done. The long list flashing in his mind as he recalled every bad thing that’s gone wrong.</p><p><em>“So, I went to the attic and to my utmost delight, there it is, red vines, killing me slowly each night... and I feel it's my duty to remove it…”</em> Wait… red vines? Dream did not like the sound of that…</p><p>
  <em>
    <strike>Fundy couldn't bring himself to take them down… he couldn't take them down.</strike>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My list grew: Four, kill the red vines. Three, fix up the redstone. Two, fix the lightbulb, and one, forget about you…” </em>
</p><p><em>“Yeah, but my one thing is really just…” </em>Did… Dream really just interrupt him?</p><p><em>“I'm not done.”</em> Fundy raised a hand, gesturing out towards the hallway. <em>“See the tarp in the hallway? That’s meant to be a gallery wall, lots of pictures, super classy. Glad I had to make the call, but in scouring for vines, I had to take the place apart…”</em> Fundy had wanted to place his most cherished memories up on that wall, the pictures he had taken with Ranboo… the one with Niki… maybe even the one with his father. Of course, the world really told him <strong><em>‘no’</em></strong>.</p><p>“Because sometimes to solve a problem…” Their eyes met, a sickening suggestion hanging in the air as Fundy spoke those words. <em>“You follow it back to the start.”</em></p><p>Dream froze at the faint sound of creaking wood.</p><p><em>“Oh. Who's that?” </em>Dream reached for the sword in his inventory.</p><p><em>“No one. It just does that when it rains!”</em> Fundy hoped the house didn’t end up flooded by the end of the day. <em>“When I tried to rebuild the wall that I'd taken down, I discovered two holes burrowed right into the ground, and I didn't have the heart to kill 'em… So my list grew</em><em>― But then, the cement that I found to fill in the gaping holes wasn't good, it didn't stick. Apparently, cement can get old?! In trying to fix one thing, I made everything worse…”</em> Fundy screamed into a pillow, his rambling getting longer with each second.</p><p>
  <em>“My list grew: Nine, steal new cement. Eight, take care of this bat I found. Seven, clean out the pipes for the bathroom and the kitchen. Six, rebuild the wall. Five, keep out the pests. Four, kill the red vines. Three, fix up the redstone. Two, fix the lightbulb, and one, forget about you…”</em>
</p><p>Nine. Nine fucking things. And he knows – HE KNOWS – it’s going to get longer. FUCK HE SHOULD ADD A HUNDRED MORE TO THE LIST NOW THAT DREAM WAS HERE―</p><p><em>“I think it's lovely… to see you fix up this new house, because you want it to be… nice for your own country…”</em> Dream didn’t care that Fundy was making his own country. He just wished he had been told. He kneels down in front of the couch, reaching out to place his hand on top of the hybrid’s. He was happy for his husband. He was! But not if it meant losing his sanity for it! <em>“But I think maybe you're obsessing… over things you can control, hoping to control your feelings for…”</em></p><p><em>“What?!”</em> Fundy withdrew his hand, his ears pressed against the top of his head as he stood up from the coach. <em>The nerve</em><em>― The actual nerve</em><em>― </em>He began to pace the length of the room, sparing a single glance towards the man who hadn’t moved a single inch from the couch. Feelings? <em>Feelings?! </em>Oh, Fundy had feelings alright. Just not those type of feelings. No, what he wanted right now was to burn something. <em><strike>But not his house because he worked so hard on this stupid cabin.</strike> “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…”</em></p><p><em>“So… you came here, looking for one thing… and you're saying that one thing… was to forget about me?” </em>It struck a chord in his heart. Dream picked at the frayed seams of the couch. He couldn’t bring himself to look into Fundy’s eyes. How did he mess this up so badly? Their differing politics were supposed to stay out of their personal life… It never got in the way before… Even when they met on the battlefield. <em>“Well, all I am asking is for you to do the first thing, which could also be the last thing that you do with me.”</em></p><p><em>“These things needed to get done– okay, okay…”</em> Fundy wrapped his arms around himself, tail curling onto around his right leg. He had so much to do, and with Niki and Ranboo off doing their own thing, he could at least try and― He froze, darting across the other side of the room as soon as he noticed Dream stand up to move towards him. Dream tried to follow him, but Fundy didn’t want to be near him right now. He held up a hand, <em>“Just… just… just stop moving towards me. Just stay on your side of the room</em><em>―”</em></p><p><em>“Okay? So, we can talk this out?” </em>Dream held onto that. He could salvage this, couldn’t he? They could talk this out, make up, and Fundy could forget about the whole… <em>running away</em> thing he’s currently got going on. They’d go back to the way it was. <em><strike>Though what that was exactly, Dream couldn’t really say.</strike></em></p><p><em> “Well, listen… well, listen… If my friends are gonna be so nice to have me out here and respect my need to be alone during this really insane, crazy, impossible time of my life…”</em> And by friends, Fundy meant Niki and Ranboo. He doubted anyone else would have noticed his absence. No one would notice if he just up and left, right? Well, New L’Manburg certainly wouldn’t have lost anything of value. <em>“The absolute least I can do is, you know, just… just go around and… and… and… and… and… destroy this house.”</em></p><p>Fundy was ripped away from his thoughts, a hand grazing the top of his shoulder. When did Dream get so close? Dream frowned, the expression hidden beneath the mask. Fundy’s eyes had glazed over, and Dream knew what that meant. In any other circumstance, he would have pulled the fox hybrid into his arms… but he can’t do that now. <em>“After tonight, you'll never hear from me again. If that's what you want. All we need to fix our marriage is one decent conversation. I'm asking for one chance.”</em></p><p>Fundy’s piercing brown eyes glared up at that porcelain mask, he should say no. He really should. <em><strike>But he never was the type to say no to someone he loved, was he?</strike></em> <em>“We'll do this one thing…”<strike></strike></em></p><p>“It is the first thing…” <em>Dream needed to get this right.</em></p><p>“We're doing together…” <em>Fundy wanted it to be over.</em></p><p>“Since…”</p><p><em>“You left without saying a word.” </em>Dream never meant for it to go that far.</p><p><em>“I found out you are not who I thought you were.” </em>Fundy never thought he’d ever feel this betrayed.</p><p>“We'll do this one thing…” <em>Fundy wished it would be just this one.</em></p><p>“It could be the last thing.”<em> Dream hoped it would not be the last.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi guys, hoped you liked the chapter! Pls do tell me if you think I should change something or add something! Hope you guys had fun reading it! Next chapter will be posted tomorrow (uh, PHT time). Anyway, bye bye!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Our Sweet Old Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! So this is the third chapter of the story, hope you guys like it! I have to warn you though that I had to tweak some parts of the lyrics since some didn't really fit within the context. Dream in this story did not do the whole 'I lied about who I actually was and used a fake name' thing that Judith had going on in the musical.</p><p>Plus, the names 'Dre' and 'Dream' do not fit the three syllables that the name Natalie has. So... I made use of something else. Anyway, I hope you guys like this! Pls do tell me what you think about it! Bye bye!</p><p>(In this house we support Arson!Fundy)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fundy curled up on the farthest end of the couch, his slitted eyes tracking every movement that Dream dared make. The blanket was draped over his own shoulders, Dream insisting that he didn’t care much for the cold. His nails raked through the cloth of the couch, wincing as a small tear formed. Niki would kill him if she noticed it. <em>Heh</em>. He didn’t know how Dream found his way to Drywaters, but he must have done something to know. His hair bristled. <em><strike>Dream didn’t threaten Niki or Ranboo, did he?</strike></em></p><p>“So… I know we can’t go back to the way we used to be. You’ve made that perfectly clear, sta― Fundy.” He doesn’t miss the way his old nickname easily slipped through Dream’s lips, the way he quickly averted from finishing it. Fundy sniffled, wiping at his nose with the edge of his jacket sleeve. He hated that nickname, anyway. <em><strike>So why did it hurt to be reminded of it?</strike></em> “We just have to move forward from this. The sooner we apologize to one another, the sooner we can go home… where it’s safer.”</p><p>“Dream, with you… no place is safe.” Fundy winced at the bitter and harsh words that leave his tongue, averting his gaze the moment those beady black eyes turned to him. He shivered, pulling the blanket towards him. He didn’t like being scrutinized away… he couldn’t see Dream’s face. Fundy would like to give him the benefit of the doubt… but this was the masked man who took everything from him. <em><strike>He didn’t want to see what was behind that painted smile</strike></em>. “You can’t speedrun an apology, babe― Dream.” <em>Shit</em>.</p><p>“I’m sorry… I know this hasn’t been easy… for you… for us…” His ex-husband’s tone was strained, with fear or with sadness Fundy couldn’t really tell. He forced himself to look at Dream, watching as the man placed a hand into his sweater pocket, scouring for something… Fundy leaned further into the couch, wishing that it would swallow him whole. Then he’d be free. “But I… I want to fix this, Funds. We can still fix this. I have a plan, trust me. Remember those… questions you forced me to answer during our date?”</p><p>“Oh! You mean those 36 Questions that you said were stupid! Those questions that were designed to make a stranger fall in love with you! How could I forget?” Fundy wanted to remain positive. He really did. But Dream’s presence made it difficult. He wanted to forget this. He wanted it to be over. He was stupid to think he could escape. Was there any land in this land that Dream didn’t own? “If you think answering those questions are going to help, then you’re wrong. You probably lied about your answers, anyway.”</p><p>“Funds.” He saw two glints of light emerge from Dream’s pocket, and Fundy did everything he could not to cry right then and there. Dream had their wedding rings, the large diamond gems glimmering despite the dim light of the living room. Fundy had worked hard for them. He didn’t even beg or plead Wilbur for money nor did he steal them from some unsuspecting L’Manburgian. Now… Now he glares and sneers at them as if they were nothing but dirt. “We need to move forward, and I know how we can do just that.”</p><p>“And what brilliant plan is that, Dream?” He hears the clang of metal against wood, his attention turning towards the metal bucket Dream had placed on the ground. The man turned to pick up the flint and steel Fundy had dropped before, his fingers lingering in the air for a moment before finally grabbing them. Dream walked back towards the bucket, gazing longingly at the weddings rings before tossing them in. Fundy winced, the rings clamoring against the bucket’s steel surface. “What… What are you doing?”</p><p>“If we want a new start, we’ll have to do it again, right?” Fundy curled up into himself as Dream approached him, the flint and steel in the man’s hand giving Fundy a vision of cloth burning against a blood red sky. He felt nauseous as he stood up and followed Dream towards the bucket. They stood on opposite ends, an arm’s length away but neither of them tries to reach out. Fundy felt cold, his hands trembling. “We could restart. A new life. A new chance. At least… this should give us closure.”</p><p>Fundy felt his throat constrict, a hint of what was to come forming in the back of his mind. Was this really what they needed? Was this what Fundy wanted? He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to look up into that porcelain mask, the urge to tear it off rising with each second. He doesn’t make a move. <em><strike>He didn’t want to get a sword through the chest, thank you very much.</strike></em> Fundy stares, hoping that the man would start to elaborate his purpose. Of course, he had no choice but to ask the question, “What is this, Dream?”</p><p><em>“There is something to the ritual of setting some old stuff on fire.”</em> Setting what on what? Fundy felt his heart skip a beat. He suspected, but he didn’t… His stare focused on the contents of the bucket, holding in the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. Would burning what they used to have really help them in the long run? Fundy didn’t know, and he didn’t know why he still cared for two rings anyway. Fine! Yes! They should burn them. <em>“A way of saying this now lives in memory. A way of saying it's only a memory.”</em></p><p>Dream sighed,<em> “There's something to the ritual of setting a torch to what is gone.”</em> The flint and steel were heavy in his hold, his knees threatening to give way as he stared at the devastation on Fundy’s face. Dream didn’t want to do this… but they needed to move forward, didn’t they? He recalls an old memory of his childhood, of a man standing before a bonfire as the crackle of burning metal rang through the air. This is how it was done. <em>“The ancients did it to honor a memory, and now we do it to honor what we used to be.”</em></p><p>Dream held back the sob in his throat, <em>“Let's say goodbye to our old life. It was heavenly.”</em> Fundy wished Dream wouldn’t remind him. He didn’t need a reminder. Dream was adamant about this, and Fundy couldn’t bring himself to protest against it. He nodded, listening to the haze of words his ex-husband was spouting. He didn’t want to hear any of them. He couldn’t bring himself to. Besides, he already knew how this would end. He knew it since he opened the door. <em>“Tonight… let's say goodbye to our old life...”</em></p><p>Dream smiled as he looked back, <em>“…and the memories.” </em>Dream recalled the first time they had met, no war hung over their heads. He remembers the hesitation in Fundy’s voice as he asked Dream out on a date. He remembers every moment they shared together. <em><strike>What a shame, they were coated in misery now.</strike></em></p><p><em>“It was imaginary.” </em>Fundy recalled the rush he felt as he prepared the perfect date for a perfect man (Hah! He was wrong about <em>that</em>). He remembers the fear he felt… of being rejected and mocked for even daring to try. He remembers the Dream he met. The Dream he loved. <em><strike>What a shame, that Dream never existed.</strike></em></p><p><em>“Which is why we say goodbye to it, and hello to this.” </em>Dream gestured to the two of them, the short distance between them bothered him. But it was what they had. It was <em>real</em>. He raised his hands, ready to burn away everything they had. His chest burned with agony, the tears in his eyes hidden only by his mask.</p><p><em>“This is ridiculous.”</em> Fundy reached out, grasping Dream’s right arm before he could drop the flint and steel into the bucket. Dream turned his attention to him and Fundy quickly redrew. He didn’t know why he had done that. He wanted it to be over, didn’t he? But he reached out… Why did he want to prolong the pain?</p><p><em>“Why?”</em> This was the perfect way to move on. They <em>needed</em> to move on. Dream held back his frustration. He wanted to end it quickly, but Fundy just had to hesitate. His fingers curled tightly around the flint and steel. It needed to stop. He was that close to fixing it. Fixing them. That was how it needed to end.</p><p><em>“I don't see why I have to join your little cremation ceremony. You're the one who ruined us…”</em> He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Fundy took in a shallow breath of air, refusing to back away despite the aching need to immediately apologize. He wouldn’t apologize. Not to Dream of all people.</p><p><em>“It was a bit more collaborative than you're remembering.”</em> Dream raised a brow at the accusation. This wasn’t entirely his fault. He hadn’t forgotten the way Fundy had mocked him during the meeting. His own <strong><em>fucking</em></strong> husband had laughed at his face and called him a <strong><em>bitch</em></strong>. He held back the seething rage he felt.</p><p><em>“All I want right now is the same thing I wanted two weeks ago. The truth. Did you care about me? And why did you let us continue in the first place?”</em> Fundy let the matter drop. They didn’t need to argue right now. At least… not when Dream was holding the flint and steel. He only had two lives left after all.</p><p><em>“The person who I was on the day you and I met…” </em>History would paint him as a bloodthirsty tyrant, but they forget that he too was but a child when the war began. He never wanted to go to war. He only wanted peace… but Wilbur broke the law and staged a revolution. What was he meant to do? He did what he had to… <em><strike>that doesn’t change the fact that he would scrub at his hands at night, willing the red that stained them to go away.</strike></em> <em>“…was deeply ashamed of who he had become. So deeply ashamed of what he'd done…”</em></p><p>Dream’s hands began to shake, <em>“…and when you showed him questions, the 36 questions…” </em>Fundy scoffed, but it felt half-hearted. He remembered their date, Dream looked uncomfortable and Fundy didn’t blame him. Why would he? Dream only agreed so Fundy would stop pestering him. Still, he wanted to know who Dream was and maybe… he wanted Dream to know him too. He then brought up the list of questions his father had once used on his own date with his mother.<em> “He looked ahead and saw who he wanted to be.”</em></p><p>Dream had loved who he was with Fundy. He didn’t feel as if he had some higher obligation, he was just… Dream. <em>“We built a life. Forgot our history. ”</em> Politics was never meant to get in the way. That was the agreement. No politics. That was their promise. Dream wouldn’t bring up the Essempy and Fundy wouldn’t bring up L’Manburg. What they did in their respective circles was never meant to seep into their lives. When did that change? When did that line get crossed? <em>“Added the details that fit in our old life.”</em></p><p>They didn’t let the outside world ruin their life. Until now… <em>“Let's say goodbye to our old life. It was heavenly…” </em>Dream’s attention flickered back towards their rings, the symbols of their promise. Their wedding was an event to remember, a momentary peace between two warring factions. Dream had walked down that rose petal-covered aisle, a happiness he’s never felt before blooming inside his chest as soon as he saw his husband at the altar. He never wanted to forget that day. <em>“… those old memories.”</em></p><p><em>“They were real to me…” </em>Fundy was ecstatic with joy as he had watched his Dream walk towards the altar. He forgot about his fears, he forgot about his pain… He had Dream… and that had been enough. <em><strike>He wished he had known beforehand that while Dream was enough for Fundy, Fundy was not enough for Dream.</strike></em></p><p><em>“I don't expect for you to understand perfectly.” </em> Dream adored every moment he had shared with Fundy, he might even go so far as to call them his favorite memories. He doesn’t miss that doubting glint in his husband’s eyes. Even without this whole… <em>dilemma</em>, Fundy would always doubt their love. Would always doubt him. Dream tried so hard to show him that he was enough. He didn’t need validation from anyone… but Fundy never saw that. <em>“I loved them, too, as much as you, and I’d want you to bury them with me.”</em></p><p><em>“Okay…” </em>Fundy gave in. <em><strike>He was an idiot for that, at least that’s what he thinks</strike></em>. He moved until their shoulders were pressed together, but he refused to look at Dream. They were here to finish… <em>whatever it was they had</em>. He wanted to get this over with. He needed to get this over with. All it takes is one second.</p><p><em>“Okay what?” </em>Dream looked down, registering the way their shoulders were grazing. He savored that small yet brief touch. <em><strike>It might be the last one he’ll ever get from his husband.</strike></em> He wished he could reach for the fox hybrid’s hand, but he knew he’d ruin the moment and probably get tossed out of the house.</p><p><em>“Give me the thing. There is something to the ritual…” </em>Fundy doesn’t wait for Dream’s response, yanking the flint and steel from his hands. He needed to do this. Not Dream. He was the one who wanted to move on. He looked down at the familiar tool, the echoes of his past seeping into his mind. Thrill raced through his veins, the feeling of being free… <em><strike>When was the last time he had burnt something?</strike></em> <strong>He should fix that.</strong><em> “… of setting fire to the lie. A way of saying that's one win for honesty.” </em>He felt nothing but sheer joy.</p><p><em>“What's done is done.” </em>He hears the soft click, the flint and steel falling from his grasp as the flicker of flames began to rise from the metal bucket. He listens to the crackle of fire, soaking in the warmth. This was better. <em><strike>Fire made everything better.</strike></em> For a moment. For just this moment. He felt happy.</p><p><em>“Tonight… I say goodbye to our old life.” </em>He could feel the satisfaction on his face. He could feel the apprehension in Dream’s gaze. Good. He drove them both to this. Fundy let out a small laugh, this was a good plan.<em> “It was heavenly.”</em></p><p>“Tonight…” <em>Dream’s heart ached.</em></p><p>“We say goodbye to our old life…” <em>Fundy’s heart soared</em>.</p><p>“And the memories.” <em>This was all wrong.</em></p><p>“It was imaginary.” <em>Fundy never felt this free</em>.</p><p>“It was heavenly.” <em>Dream never felt this hopeless</em>.</p><p>They watch as the rings turn to ash.</p><p>Fundy smiled, <em>“May it rest in peace.”</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. It's you, Dream</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! So, this is chapter 4! Hope you guys liked it!</p>
<p>(Also I should probably clarify that the sort-of POV going on here is through Fundy's. In the first chapter it was Dream's, in the second it kind of mixed between the two of them, and in the third it was Fundy's except for the song part where I also added in Dream's POV).</p>
<p>Anyway, pls do tell me what you guys think about this and thank you for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thick dark smoke curled around the small room, ash twirling in the air as a bit of soot landed on the top of his sensitive nose. He let out a soft sneeze, snapping out of the momentary euphoria that he had felt just a few seconds ago. He began to cough, waving a hand around his face as he backed away from the burning bucket. He could hear muffled wheezing beside him, a harrowing reminder that his ex-husband was still in the same house as him… and that they just burnt their wedding rings… in a rusty old bucket.</p>
<p>“Wow. That thing’s really roaring.” Fundy winced, gaze snapping towards the black that stained his fingertips. Dream had adjusted his mask, a hand over his mouth as they both stared at what they had done. Guilt gnawed within his chest. Dream said they needed to move on, but as he glanced at the remains of their rings, he wasn’t sure if they made the right choice. “Not a single trace left… but that’s what fire does, right? We couldn’t have thrown them in a lake… buried them… You know how I get around fire…”  </p>
<p>“I… I didn’t really think about that. I’m sorry.” Fundy held back a scoff. Dream didn’t think? Wow, that’s a first, and it was probably a lie! Fundy looked at the bucket, watching as the flames began to die down. He felt a pang of hunger at the sight, a damning need to rekindle the fire once more. He had tossed the flint and steel into the bucket, their remains mixing in with the rings’. It seemed almost poetic. “Yeah, I… that’s what happens when you decide to toss both the flint and the steel! Is that smoke gonna be a problem?”</p>
<p>“No. None of the fire alarms work.” He meant to fix them yesterday, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so, terrified that his interference would feed the growing list of problems he already had. He walked to the window, gripping the metal handle in his hands as he pushed. The tell-tale sound of glass cracking and scattering to the ground made him groan. <em>Great</em>. Dream made a move towards him, but he held up a hand. “No. No. All of the shards fell outside… Which I’ll have to clean up tomorrow…” <em>This was fine.</em></p>
<p>“Okay.” He watched as Dream nodded his head, the man’s hands clutching the edges of his lime-green sweater, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Fundy tore his gaze away, the awful and putrid smell of the room snaking back into his senses. He needed to get rid of the smell, at least before Niki and Ranboo came back. He didn’t want to see their disappointed faces the moment they stepped in and smelt the strong scent of smoke, and he certainly didn’t want to explain <em>why</em> the house smelt as if it was on fire.</p>
<p>“Can you bring me the bucket?” Enough time had passed, right? The bucket was safe to touch, wasn’t it? He waited for the scream, the yelp of pain, but it didn’t come. The bucket came into view, scarred hands holding it up to him as if in offering. He gripped the metal edges, flinching as he feels the scorching heat spread down his fingertips. He backs off, ignoring the ache on his palms as he looked up into Dream’s mask. “How―? You know what? I don’t care. Just… Can you toss the bucket out of the window, please?”</p>
<p>“Sure thing.” He watched as Dream turned to the window, the bucket in his hands as he looks out into the dark sky above. The rain had lulled to a slow drizzle, though Fundy knew the sand was still wet. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning the ashes of his old life in the morning. If he’s lucky, they’ll mix into the sand and be lost to time forever. He took a cautious step towards Dream, noticing his hesitation as he refused to throw the bucket out. Was he trembling? “Are we scattering our old life into the wind?”</p>
<p>“It would be great not to have this place wreak of smoke when Niki and Ranboo come back.” Fundy’s eyes narrowed into slits as Dream flinched at Ranboo’s name. <em>Suspicious</em>. Dream let out a quiet sigh, grasping the bucket tightly until his knuckles turned white. Then the bucket was gone, clanging against the ground as it was tossed out into the night. Fundy closed his eyes, collapsing to the floor as exhaustion seeped into his aching bones. They’d done it. But did it help? ‘Cause it didn’t feel like anything’s changed. “Thanks…”</p>
<p>He felt a presence sit down beside him, the edges of their fingertips touching one another’s. Fundy wished he could lean his head on Dream’s shoulders. He needed some semblance of comfort right now. Unfortunately, the only person within a mile radius just so happened to be the man who was his ex-husband. Fundy let out a low growl. He wished it were somebody else. <em>Fuck</em>, he’d rather have Schlatt haunt him for the rest of his life if it meant he’d never have to see Dream again. “How do you feel?”</p>
<p>“Sad…” Fundy busied himself with his inventory, arranging and rearranging the few items he had. He could feel Dream’s heated gaze on the back of his head, an unrelenting force that pleaded with him to look back.  Fundy kept his attention on his inventory. It was a mess. He was a mess. “…and stupid.”</p>
<p>“Me too.” He nodded along, though he doubted that. Dream never felt stupid. At least, he never admitted to being stupid. <em><strike>Even though he was</strike></em>. A nagging and chilling feeling tugged across his chest. A finality that left him breathless as he realized one crucial detail about this whole encounter.</p>
<p>“Particularly, because I just realized that you won’t be leaving this place anytime soon, right?” He began to tug at his ears, not missing the way Dream tried to reach out to grab his wrist. He was beginning to get irritated and if something didn’t change soon, he was going to start <em>biting his own tail</em>. “<em>Fuck.</em>”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?” Fundy stopped, choosing to run a hand through his disheveled and dirt-caked hair instead. He looked down at his nearly empty inventory, taking note of the yellow flowers he had taken from the small garden Niki had set up. On any other day, he would be eating his dinner at this particular time. New L’Manburg and the Essempy could destroy themselves for all he cared… but he should’ve known that Dream would drag him back. He could never truly run away from his problems, could he?</p>
<p>“You came over here with a purpose, right? You want me back, right? If there’s anything that I truly know about you, Dream, is that you’re persistent. You won’t be leaving until I go back with you, or forgive you, or…” Fundy trailed off, barely registering the fact that he had stood up from where he was sitting and was currently placing the bundle of yellow flowers on the table. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest, losing the words he had wanted to say. <em>What did he want to say?</em> “Hey… Batry, eat some flowers.”</p>
<p>“I… I could leave.” The words hung over the air, the room turning colder as Fundy finally forced himself to turn around. He sucked in a breath as dazzling forest green eyes peered up at him with fondness. When was the last time Dream had taken off his mask in front of him? There were dark rings under the man’s eyes, his usual grin or smirk was gone, replaced by a frown that Fundy rarely ever saw. For once, Dream tore his gaze away, fixing it to the side as if that one particular piece of dirt was very intriguing to look at.</p>
<p>“Really?” He wasn’t hearing things, right? Dream said that, right? Fundy shook away his nervous thoughts. He needed to be sure. Was this some trick? Some new… reverse psychology gimmick the man made up?</p>
<p>“Yeah. If you want me to. Do you… want me to leave?”</p>
<p>“You’re… You’re actually serious?” He couldn’t believe it. He felt bamboozled, scammed even. It was that easy? Fundy blinked, wondering if he had accidentally knocked his head on something while getting up.</p>
<p>“Yes. Fundy, I wouldn’t―” The fur on his tail bristled as Dream paused, both of them knowing that ending that sentence was not a good idea. Fundy kept his breath steady. He could do this. He could tell him to leave, and they’d never see each other again. It was that simple. He opened his mouth. Then he closed it. <em><strike>WHY COULDN’T HE SAY IT? DAMMIT</strike></em>. He wrapped his arms around his chest, he needed time to think this through, but they didn’t have that time.</p>
<p>“I don’t know, Dream… I need to think.” He felt himself collapse onto the couch, his head a whirlwind of thoughts. It should be easy. All he needed to say was, <em>‘okay, get out and never come back into my life because if you do, I won’t hesitate to burn you alive.’</em> Simple, right? He groaned, placing his hands on his face. He didn’t have the time to think. After a few seconds, he came to a decision. He sat up, finding that Dream didn’t move a single inch. Probably didn’t even look at him as he threw his little fit. “Dream…”</p>
<p>“Yes? Do you want me to leave, Fundy?” Dream stood, his knees shaking despite the blank look in his eyes. Fundy couldn’t tell if he was nervous or if he was tired from sitting. He heard the thump of footsteps approach him, saw the shadow that blanketed his form. Dream was staring down at him, his porcelain mask in his hands as they both waited for Fundy’s response. Fundy stood up, heading towards the door of the living room. He had his answer. He just had to say it. “Or do you want to meet the real Dream?”</p>
<p>“I think it would be best if I accompanied you out of Drywaters territory.” Fundy opened the door, a draft of wind caressing his cheek as he stepped into the hallway. He waited for Dream who was putting his mask back on. Maybe he didn’t want Fundy to see his face. <em>Good</em>. Fundy didn’t want to see his face. “I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“It’s okay.” He tries not to hear the quiver in Dream’s voice as the man walked past him, pretended he didn’t see the way his shoulders were shaking. Fundy looked up towards his pet bat, Batry seemingly energized from the drama they had just bore witness to. They were living their best life. Good for them.</p>
<p>“Okay, Batry we’re stepping out, just for a second. Try not to tear the place apart.” Because Fundy might just lose it if he came back to scratches on the walls. He followed after Dream who was waiting at the front door, then a crack of thunder shook the house, causing them to jump. “Woah, did you hear that?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Dream let out an empty chuckle as Fundy opened the door, the night wind hitting them full force as they went out of the house. It was dark, the lanterns Fundy had placed around the perimeter were out, the rain having damaged them. <em>Great, another thing to add to his list of tasks</em>. Fundy scowled, pushing forward even as the sand threatened to give way beneath him. Dream trailed after him slowly, as if he wanted to savor the moment. Well, Fundy wanted to go to bed. They both can’t have what they want.</p>
<p>“I can’t believe you came here. I can’t believe I have to do this.” Fundy never thought he’d ever be forced to escort Dream out of any place. Not Pogtopia. Not New L’Manburg. Not even Drywaters. Dream was never meant to find this place. He shouldn’t have ever found him, and how Dream even found him was a whole issue in and of itself. Fundy wished he could turn around and just… just… No. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt <em><strike>his</strike></em> Dream. He could never do that. “I should have never entertained this. I knew that.”</p>
<p>“Why do you know that?” Fundy wished that Dream didn’t make it feel so easy, though. With every second that passed, he was beginning to lose the last threads of his patience. Fundy nearly tripped on a rock at the question, grumbling beneath his breath as they reached border of Drywaters. This was where they parted. Dream should be off on his merry way now, but he didn’t make a move to leave. The palpable silence made it harder to think rationally. Dream wanted an answer. Fine! He’ll give him a damn answer!</p>
<p>“Because it’s pointless.” Fundy kicked at the air, willing that the sand on his boots would fall off. He watched as the clump of wet sand landed on top of Dream’s boots. That made him feel a bit better.</p>
<p>“Okay, it’s pointless. <em>How</em> is it pointless?”</p>
<p>“It’s pointless because…” <em>Because you’ve hurt me too many times. Because we can’t fix this. Because you said you didn’t care about me at all.</em> “Okay, I’m going to ask you a question. Is Dream your actual name?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” He nearly screams at the amused tone in Dream’s voice. Granted it was a ridiculous question… but could Dream blame him for being a bit cautious? Who knows what else Dream had lied about? Maybe those rumors that his real name was <em>‘Dre’</em> were true! Fundy shook his head, he needed answers. He needed so many answers and he wanted to ask so many questions. Could he leave it at this? Could he really let this man walk away without trying to understand? Fundy didn’t know. He really didn’t know.</p>
<p>“Did you marry me for some political reason?”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>“No. Fundy</em>
  </strong>
  <strong>
    <em>―”</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“Hmmmmmm… If I let you stay… I’m gonna see proof that you are who you say you are, and then what?”</p>
<p>“Then we get to know each other again.” <em>Get to fall in love all over again</em> is left unsaid. Fundy picked at the edges of his sleeves. Could he bring himself to do it? He regretted that Dream had placed his mask back on, regretted that he said he didn’t want to see the man’s face. ‘Cause right now he just wanted to see Dream’s eyes. Was he hurt? Was he lying through his teeth? UGHHHHHHHHH. This was so difficult. “So… can we do the 36 questions? Do you want to do the 36 questions? We could answer them, Fundy.”</p>
<p>“Like a couple of <strong><em>strangers?!</em></strong> Hit reset?! Act like you didn’t lie to me this whole time?!”</p>
<p>“We don’t need to act like <strong><em>anything</em></strong> if you do the 36 questions with me, you’ll meet the <strong><em>real</em></strong> Dream―”</p>
<p>“I don’t have 36 questions, Dream! I have <strong><em>one</em></strong> important question. <strong><em>Why did you do it? Why?!</em></strong>”</p>
<p>“And that one question has a thousand answers. You’re… you’re asking me why I fell in love with you?” Fundy stepped back… was Dream crying? He could hear him <em>sobbing</em>. “I loved our old life, Fundy. That was me. That was the real me. Nice to meet you… Now… would you like to do the 36 questions with me?”</p>
<p>“That was you. That was all you?” Fundy kept his own tears unshed, they both didn’t need to cry right now. Guilt clawed at his heart. Was he being too harsh? Was he wrong? Fundy placed a hand on Dream’s shoulder. His hand felt as if it was burning. “You… you loved me? You actually loved me?”</p>
<p>“Yes. I still do, Fundy.” He felt Dream’s hand on top of his, a gesture that almost made him melt. He almost gave in right then and there, but he remembered what Dream had taken away from him. This was the man who ruined his country and led his father to his death. This was the tyrant who took one of his lives!</p>
<p>He pulled away just as quickly as he approached. “You’re confusing me. Can I really trust you? Should I trust you? Are you actually telling me the truth right now or am I just that gullible enough to believe you?”</p>
<p>“Okay, okay, okay. <strong><em>Wait</em></strong>. <strong><em>Wait</em></strong>. Let’s stay on task here, sta― Fundy.”</p>
<p>“What… What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“Fundy Wastaken-Soot. Answer me honestly.” Oh, he didn’t like the sound of that. Fundy waited for the ball to drop. He felt nauseous. He wished the sand would swallow him whole. But… maybe the question wouldn’t be that bad. It certainly wasn’t going to ruin his already wrecked life. He felt the seconds tick by, almost as if Dream himself was hesitating to speak. Fundy wished he’d just leave… <em><strike>but did he really want that?</strike></em> “Right now, given the choice of anyone in the world, who would you want as a dinner guest?”</p>
<p>Oh. <strong>OH.</strong> He did not. Fundy kept his hands on the ends of his sleeves, lest he do something he’ll deeply regret. “You’re trying to trick me.” Fundy let out a growl, his entire body tensing up as he realized what Dream just tried to do. He wanted one decent conversation. But no. Absolutely not, because fuck him. “You tried to trick me. Wow. I shouldn’t be surprised. This isn’t exactly the first time you’ve done <em>that</em>.”</p>
<p>“I just asked you a question.”</p>
<p>“<strong>No.</strong> You asked me <em>the</em> question. The first question of 36! It doesn’t matter I’m not answering it―”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>Fundy looked up into his ex-husband’s masked face. He was joking. He was actually joking. Why? <strong><em>WHY?!</em></strong> Fundy nearly screamed, rubbing his hands on his face. He wanted to resolve this. He really did. But <em>Dream</em> was making it really hard for him to keep his calm. “Wha― You know perfectly well why I don’t want to answer your question!”</p>
<p>“Because you don’t want me to tell the truth? Because you don’t want to find out the real me?” Dream moved closer, though his hands stayed tucked into his sweater pockets. Fundy edged away, realizing how close they had gotten to one another. He dug the heels of his feet into the sand, willing for some divine intervention to take him right then and there… which was ridiculous since… He kept his gaze on Dream. “Because you don’t want us to solve this? However it ends, I at least want us to try and work this out!”</p>
<p>“I…” Fundy sucked in a shaky breath. He began to walk away. He didn’t get that far before he felt a hand lightly grasp his wrist. He looked back, watching as Dream’s free hand reached up to pull his mask off his face. He sees the tear tracks that stained the man’s cheeks, mixing in with those beautiful freckles that Fundy adored so much. Dream’s eyes were nearly shut tight, those green eyes held so much pain in them. They were both suffering. They really were. “I… Dream… I’m not really sure… I don’t think I can…”</p>
<p>“Anyone in the world. Your house. Dinner.” Fundy wished he could disappear… because he already knew his answer to the question. But could he say it? “Get to know each other. Spill it all. Who would it be?”</p>
<p>“I don’t have to answer this.” He scratched at his shirt, hearing the rip of cloth as he tore through his sleeve. Dream winced, reaching out a hand before retracting it… at least he tried. Fundy took another long exhale. He could do this. Just… 36 questions. He only had to answer 36 Questions. 36 Questions. Simple. No. No. No. He couldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. “I really don’t have to answer this…”</p>
<p>“You’re already telling me.” He flinched. His answer was still the same as the one he had said on their first date. Oh, if he could build a time machine to tell his younger self of the misery his future held. He could avoid this. Maybe he would have run away sooner. “Who do you want over for dinner, Funds?”</p>
<p>“Technoblade.”</p>
<p>“Wrong. Who would it be, Fundy? Anyone in the world.” He felt Dream’s grip fall and he walked off. Oh, he really had to do this, didn’t he? He let out a chuckle, one that quickly evolved into manic laughter. One answer, but it meant something. It always meant something. He gripped his knees, letting the tears fall from his eyes. Fine. FINE! He’ll answer the <em>fucking</em> questions. His laughter turned into a guttural and anguished scream, echoing throughout the desolate badlands as he violently fell to his knees. “Fundy―!”</p>
<p><em>“I would have dinner with you, Dream. Okay?” </em>He buried his face into his hands, scrambling away from those clingy hands that tried to reach down for him. Dream wanted his answer? Then he could have it. Fundy screamed out the words, his throat aching from the sudden outburst. He couldn’t remember the last time he screamed or shouted at someone.<em> “If I could have anyone over, it would be you, Dream…”</em></p>
<p>Fundy trembled, <em>“…as much as it pains me to say. I wish it were somebody else.” </em>He’d even take Technoblade. <em>“But given the choice of anyone in the world, the only person I'd want over for dinner is you.”</em></p>
<p>He sighed. His younger self had been so excited when Dream said yes. He hated dinners now… Dream ruined dinner for him. <em>“Yes, I'd have dinner with you, Dream. So, I could ask questions, or maybe one question.” </em>Those damning questions that had circled his mind. They had haunted him even as he founded Drywaters, <em>“Who are you? And why were you living a lie?”</em></p>
<p>“It would probably end in a fight.”<em> Dream wished it didn’t have to end like that. Not them. Not in that way.</em></p>
<p><em>“But once I knew the truth, the real truth, maybe I could stay strong…” </em>Fundy knew it would end in a fight, or at least it would end with explosions. That’s how conflicts in this world ended. Their old life and relationship wouldn’t be the exception. Fundy just hoped that it’s not his country that gets destroyed. <em><strike>He could afford to lose a life…</strike></em> <em>“And politely send you, Dream, out into the night. That'd be nice.”</em></p>
<p>He felt the hunger in his stomach. He really was hungry. <em>“Yes, I would break bread with my husband who lied to my face.” </em>He also wanted answers and maybe he could get both. Maybe. The world has never been kind to his needs before. <em>“Because in my head I've been wondering, how he kept up the pace?”</em></p>
<p>He gripped at his chest, at his bruised and broken heart. He danced to the tune of a madman for so long… He believed Dream for so long. He could never get those years back. <em>“To live in a lie for so long, to string his husband along.” </em>He looked up, the world a kaleidoscope of color as his tears ruined his vision. Still, he managed to find those familiar green eyes.<em> “How in the hell could he think that was okay?”</em></p>
<p>He curled closer into himself, wiping his nose at his newly torn sleeve. The drizzle of rain had begun to seep into clothes, drenching him with their melancholic sorrow, <em>“I'd choose dinner with you, Dream. Over Xisuma and over Awesamdude.” </em>Dream nearly fell over, his eyes widening as the mention of those names. Fundy had heard of these people. They were legends in their own respective fields… but he’d choose Dream over them any day.<em> “And even my own parents… Sally… Wilbur…” </em>He’d choose Dream over <strong><em>anyone</em></strong>.</p>
<p><em>“I would die to dine with all four, but if I'm being real, and I want to be real.” </em>Being real was all he had, and it was something Dream would never understand. Fundy knew what he was, and he owned it. <em><strike>He lived up to other’s expectations.</strike> “In a world full of people, the only person I'd want over for dinner is you.”</em></p>
<p>He wanted to please everyone… he tried to be happy. <em><strike>He wanted to be happy for once.</strike></em> “<em>Yes, in a world full of people who all haven't hurt me…” </em>He watched his home get destroyed over and over. He watched his grandfather kill his father in front of him. He watched the only family he’s ever known tear itself from the inside.<em> “…the way that you hurt mem the only person I'd want over for dinner is you.” </em>He was pathetic.</p>
<p>“That's the truth.” <em>He wished it wasn’t.</em></p>
<p>“That's the truth.” <em>He didn’t want it to be.</em></p>
<p><em>He felt Dream’s arms wrap around him. He leaned into the touch. He was so pathetic. </em>“That's the truth…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. For the Record</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WE'VE REACHED THE LAST SONG FOR ACT 1 HAHAHHAHAHAHHA</p><p>I'm so happy hnggggggg</p><p>Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter. I'm probably not gonna edit this one since I like it, but if you guys think I should add or change something pls do tell me! I'd love hear feedback. Anyway, hope you guys like this. I'll be moving on to the Act 2 songs (I must say that I might start changing up the lines here since I have to admit that some of the lines Judith sings can relate to Fundy and stuff so yeah). Thank you so much for reading and I hope you guys like this! Bye bye.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A loud crash of thunder brought them both back. Dream coughed into his hand, withdrawing from the momentary embrace they had both found themselves in. Fundy shivered as the wind began to pick up, grasping Dream’s shoulder as he forced himself to stand up. Dream tries not to laugh as Fundy ends up pushing him further onto the ground in his effort to move. He paused as a hand entered his vision, an offer. He gripped Fundy’s hand as gently as he could, standing up on the unsteady ground of sand. He feels the sand in between his fingers, their rough texture grating against his skin. He looks over at Fundy, his husband's tail covered in dark clingy sand. Fundy scowls at his tail, the white tip dirtied by the bits of sand that clung to it. Dream wheezed as Fundy's tail poofed out, clumps flying though the air with one almost smacking him straight on the face. His thumb begins to trace the bones on Fundy's hand, recalling the nights where he would curl up beside his husband, their hands entangled as they shared the stories of their day. They would laugh and cry at everything - at every tale - until they both somehow fell asleep, their bodies pressed closed together until the sun rose in the distance to disturb their slumber.</p><p>“Are… are you okay? Sorry, I know you didn’t want to answer the dumb questions. I shouldn't have forced you to do them. I'm... I'm being selfish.” Dream glanced at his worn netherite boots, the only piece of armor he had taken with him. A part of him knew that Fundy wouldn’t raise a sword at him, at least he hoped not. The night was young after all. Fundy sniffled, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand. It barely registered in his mind how exhausted the fox hybrid looked, the way his hair was covered in grime and dirt as if he hadn’t taken a bath the whole day. Dream felt a pang of guilt in his chest. Fundy was proud of his long hair, spending minutes on end to ensure it was soft and clean. Dream wondered if this was his fault, if he had driven his own husband to such a state of disarray. He wished he could run his hands through those long locks, wished for anything but this. He held himself back, having a strange sense that Fundy would bite his hand if he tried to run a hand through Fundy's hair. “You have a life here, a new country to raise and nurture. I shouldn't be here. I... I want you to be happy, Fundy. I should lea―”</p><p>“No.” He paused, glancing down at the man who just a moment ago was ready to escort him out of the premises. It took him another second to realize that Fundy was actually holding his hand. He wasn’t pulling away? Dream drowned out the hope that dared to rise in his chest. He shouldn’t get ahead of himself, maybe Fundy just didn’t realize? The fox hybrid let out a long sigh, those gorgeous brown eyes meeting his own gaze. “Stay. I’ve already answered the first question. We might as well get this over with, ya?”</p><p>“Yeah! Yeah!” Dream hoped the desperation in his voice wasn’t obvious. He didn’t want Fundy to do this out of pity. He froze, feeling a sudden shift in the air. He looked up just as a torrent of rain fell upon them, drenching them instantly. He heard Fundy yelp, the ground beneath them threatening to give way. In the murky darkness, he managed to find his husband’s hand, holding it tightly as he pulled them away from where they once stood. <em>“What the hell</em><em>―”</em></p><p>“Oh fuck. Um… we have to head back. Come on.” He felt a tug on his hand, Fundy forcing them to move as the rain mercilessly poured down at them. He could feel both of them struggle against the wind, tripping over the sand as they wandered through the dark. Dream had never felt more grateful for his husband’s fox senses. He was completely blind to the world right now, the splatter of cold liquid on his cheeks as he fumbled his way through the gloom. “Hone― Dream, come on. Move with me here, ya?”</p><p>“I am!” He felt both of tumble to the ground, a tangle of limbs as they both tried to scramble up. Dream felt his heart skip a beat as Fundy laughed, this was kind of entertaining… He felt the grit of sand beneath his fingertips, nearly grazing Fundy’s cheek as he tried to stand up. It lasted a second, but it felt like a lifetime before they both finally got up. Fundy was laughing, his hand still gripping Dream’s. Neither of them tried to let go. “You really had to choose the desert for your country?”</p><p>“It felt like a great idea at the time, ba― Dream.” Fundy tried not to pinch himself. He was forgetting. He was supposed to be angry. He felt Dream’s hand holding onto his own, he couldn’t pull away. <em><strike>He can hold his anger in for now, right?</strike></em> “Can we please get out of the rain? I don’t want to get sick here.”</p><p>“I don’t want you to get sick too.” Dream followed as Fundy led them back towards the house, trusting his husband despite everything. He froze, his free hand grasping at air. His mask― He began to pull away. “Fundy. My mask. I think I dropped it somewhere―” He shouldn’t be hyperventilating. <em>Fuck</em>. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>“Dream?” Dream held onto Fundy’s hand, an anchor in the dark. He couldn’t breathe. He grasped his head, the back of his throat burning. “Oh <em>fuck</em>. Dream it’ll be okay. Just listen to my voice, okay?”</p><p>“Fundy. I <strong><em>need</em></strong> my mask―”</p><p>“I know. I know.” Fundy tried to keep his calm, knowing that they both didn’t need to panic. “We’ll go find it, ya? Just… walk with me, Dream. It’s just you and me right now. No one else. <em>Me and you</em>. Together.”</p><p>Dream simply nodded, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to remember where he was. No one else was here. No one who could possibly hurt him. He felt himself get pulled back into the brunt of the storm. The hand curled around his own was a welcome presence. He held onto that, closing his eyes as he thought of better times. Good thoughts. <em>He was with Fundy. He was with Fundy. He was with Fundy. He was safe</em>.</p><p>Fundy scanned every inch of the ground. He needed to find the mask. The sand would swallow it up if he didn’t find it immediately. He was beginning to lose hope until he spotted a peculiar hint of white sticking out from the ground. He held back the yelp of victory at the back of his throat, he didn’t want to spook Dream. He led them towards the mask, reaching out to pluck it from the ground. “Dream? I found your mask, Dream.”</p><p>Dream looked up, the world still a haze of shadow and… tears? He held back from wiping at his eyes, feeling the bits of sand that clung every inch of his skin. He tried not to panic when Fundy’s hand disentangled from his own. He felt gentle hands wrap around his head, a heavy weight settling by the side of his face as a familiar white came into view. He let out a soft sigh, Fundy’s hand snaking back to hold his. “Thank you, star.”</p><p>Fundy winced at the nickname, though he couldn’t really fault Dream at the moment. He gave the man a smile, a grimace really but it was the best he could do. He slowly led them back towards the house, making sure they didn’t trip this time. He let out a sigh of relief as a familiar outline of a door came into view. A moment later, they were both standing in a warm hallway, drenched to the bone and covered in wet sand. In another time, Fundy would be laughing… but he couldn’t bring himself to do so now. “Well…”</p><p>“Do you have any extra clothes you could spare… and a hot shower, maybe?” Dream let go, breaking off from the warmth of Fundy’s hand. “I kinda want to….” He gestured to the mess that was him.</p><p>“Yeah… you can look head on upstairs… my room’s to the right.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Dream turned to head up the small staircase that was tucked to edge of the hallway, pausing as he placed his hand on the banister. “Are we still doing the 36 questions?” He looked back at Fundy.</p><p>“Ya. Ya, we are.” Fundy tried not to scream as he forced a warm smile on his face. He could do this. He could do this. “After you come back, okay?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Fundy watched as Dream disappeared upstairs, letting out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. He’d gotten carried away, didn’t he?</p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>.”</p><p>He trudged towards the kitchen, hearing the distinct noise of bat wings following after him. He walked into the dimly lit room, his head a mess of emotions. <em>What the hell did he even want? </em>He didn’t know.</p><p>“Batry… what do I do?”</p><p>Batry merely squeaked, flapping around the room before settling in one corner of the room. Fundy sighed, forcing himself to walk towards the dining room table.</p><p>He placed a hand on the table’s surface, confusion wracking through his brain. He didn’t know what he wanted. He just didn’t know.</p><p><em>“For the record, this is self-destructive. For the record, I'm aware of that.” </em>Fundy ran a hand through his dripping hair, a shiver coursing through his body at the chill. He was actually doing this. <em>Fuck</em>. <em>Fuck</em>. <em>Fuck</em>. Why?<em> “For the record, I've been picturing his body, draped over the sofa wearing nothing but his mask.”</em></p><p>He let out a whine, <em>“For the record.” </em>Fundy sighed as he placed his forehead against the table, watching as beads of rainwater trickled onto the dust-stained tablecloth. He needed to wash it anyway. He closed his eyes, listening to the creak of footsteps above him. Dream was probably assessing his messy room, seeing the remains of vases on the floor. How many vases has Fundy broken? He’s lost count at this point.</p><p><em>“I'm screwed…. for the record, this can still go my way.” </em>No. Who cares what Dream thought? He agreed to this for one reason. This wasn’t for Dream. He gripped the tablecloth beneath him, he was doing this for his own good.<em> “For the record, I can keep my pride. All I have to do is keep us focused on the questions.”</em></p><p>He was doing this for himself, <em>“Each one of his responses will remind me how he lied. That's the answer.” </em>He slammed his hands against the table, pushing himself to stand as he headed towards the house’s sorry excuse for a kitchen. He scoured through the chests, searching for the plates. <em>“That's what I'll do. I'll use the 36… 36… 36… 36 questions…”</em> He winced, not missing the way he hesitated to finish that sentence.</p><p><em>“…as a lifeline. And of course, I have sympathy…” </em>He ignored the ache in his chest, grabbing whatever he could find as he headed back to the table.<em> “…for the pathological liar who did this to me, and yes, I admit...”</em></p><p>He remembered the way they held hands as they ran back to the house, <em>“I wish I could touch him. But the questions will make one thing clear…” </em>Fundy scanned through the memories of their old life, the one he could never have back. <em>“…there's nothing left of my old life to spare. No matter how much I may…”</em></p><p><em>“Ta-da!”</em> Dream had walked back into the kitchen, gaze turning to Fundy. He held back the smile that threatened to form on his face, watching his husband’s frantic movement.</p><p>
  <em>“What's up?”</em>
</p><p>Dream held back his chuckle, noticing the way Fundy jumped around to look at him, an exasperated look on the fox hybrid’s face. <em>“What do you think?” </em></p><p><em>“About what?”</em> Fundy looked Dream up and down, confused as to what the man wanted from him. His mask was off, his dirty blonde hair significantly drier than before. A silence overtook the room, a frown forming on Dream’s face as Fundy took too long to realize. Fundy tried not to climb onto the table as Dream drew closer, enough that Fundy could probably begin counting the freckles on the man’s face.</p><p><em>“My new shirt. Go orange!”</em> Dream gestured towards the shirt he had borrowed. He’d never seen Fundy wear it but he knew orange was Fundy’s favorite color. That deserved some points for knowing, right?</p><p><em>“Yeah… huh… go orange. Anyway.” </em>Fundy turned to the table, <em>“I was just, huh… setting the table here.”</em></p><p><em>“Oh.”</em> Dream glanced towards the small set-up Fundy had made, recalling the nights where he’d come home to find Fundy waiting for him in the kitchen. He never got to surprise Fundy with his own cooking…</p><p><em>“I don't know why I did that.”</em> Fundy kept his fingers from trembling, tearing his gaze away as he walked back towards the kitchen. Droplets of water trailed after him as he moved. He needed his own change of clothing. He looked back towards the table, reminiscing the first time he’d… Fundy shook his head at the thought. He didn’t want to think about it. That was over. That was nothing but a lie. <em>“That's… weird.”</em></p><p><em>“It makes perfect sense to me. It's kinda like a weird first date.”</em> Though Dream knew their real first date was anything but weird. It was magical. It was bliss. <em>“Which is really why we ought to have more booze.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“I have whiskey. But, hmm… did you… did you want wine?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Do you have wine?” </em>Dream tried to keep out the surprise in his voice, not wanting Fundy to interpret it differently. He just assumed… that with… Schlatt… Dream wished he hadn’t mentioned alcohol.</p><p><em>“Yeah. The glass shattered on the furnace last night but I think the reds are okay. I'll just… hmm… yeah, I'll get ‘em. I'll be right back. Stay with this man, Batry.” </em>Fundy looked at the corner, beady brown eyes stared back at him from the ceiling. Batry let out a squeak of affirmation. Fundy smiled before leaving, hoping that when he came back Dream wouldn’t have found some way to persuade Batry to his side. He looked down at his drenched clothes, his jacket clinging to his shoulders. Dream could wait a few minutes, right?</p><p><em>“Hey, Batry. I can't imagine all the horrible stuff you've heard about me. Well, it's all true. But you don't seem like the kind of bat who holds a grudge.” </em>Dream waited until Fundy had left the room, eyeing the bottle of whiskey Fundy had placed on the table. He sat down at one of the chairs, pouring himself a glass as he looked up at the bat. Batry merely stared at him, letting out a small squeak as Dream took one sip of the alcohol. <em><strike>It was a learned habit, to drown your troubles with booze</strike></em>. Fundy wouldn’t mind, right?</p><p><em>“You're not a whiskey drinker, are you? No… you keep your wits about you. I like that. For the record, I did not expect this.” </em>He waited for the bat to launch himself at Dream, but it never came. He nodded, taking another slow sip of whiskey. He couldn’t believe his luck. He really couldn’t. He had gone over the scenarios in his head, and there were 6.96969 billion outcomes, and only one of them did he succeed.<em> “I really thought that it would be a harder sell. I came up with this plan while I was walking to Drywaters.”</em></p><p>He let out a dry chuckle, <em>“How was I to know that it would work so well? For the record…” </em>Worry settled into his chest. <em>“…I haven't thought a lot about the way I'll answer. I guess I'm still afraid that I might lie.”</em></p><p><em>“If only I could make him see, if I was given the choice…”</em> He looked down at the yellow liquid in his hands.</p><p><em>“Of telling him the truth or sticking knives into my eyes, I'd pick the knives.” </em>He set the glass down, pulling at the tips of his tips of his hair. He can’t do this… <em>“But I'll survive. I'll treat the 36… 36… 36… 36 questions…”</em></p><p>They’d both done this before, they could do it again, right? It was a reset, a retry at an old memory. <em>“…as a pastime. 36… 36… 36… 36 questions just like last time.” </em>He looked down, wincing as he looked at the dust on the table. He shouldn’t be here, and Fundy didn’t deserve to be in a debilitated place like this either. They should be at <em>home</em>. <em>“And maybe it's wrong to say, but his defense and distance will not sway…”</em></p><p>He could bring his husband back home. He had to bring him home, <em>“… me from believing this is possible.”</em></p><p>He had gotten in, that meant something. He looked around the dark dining room. Dream reached into his inventory, placing lit torches on the wall near the table. <em>“If he didn't love me anymore, then why the hell did he open the front door?” </em>Fundy could have let him be eaten, watched in delight even. It wouldn’t have been a noteworthy death, not enough to take one of his lives or… maybe Fundy worried it might? He had the chance here, the chance to fix the most important relationship of his life. <em>“I think it's a sign that he</em><em>―”</em></p><p><em>“Hey.” </em>Fundy scrambled back into the room, two bottles of wine held tightly in his grip. Though… he heatedly glared at the glass of whiskey in Dream’s hand. Well… he certainly wasted a bit of his time then.</p><p>
  <em>“What's up?!”</em>
</p><p>Fundy rolled his eyes as Dream tried to hide his drink, popping the cork off one of the wine bottles. He flinched, a bitter smell reaching his nose, <em>“Huh… there's a good chance that this wine is terrible.”</em></p><p><em>“Huh… I– I'd settle for drinkable.” </em>Dream doesn’t miss the irritation in Fundy’s stare as he noticed the glass of whiskey in his hands. He wished he wasn’t such a slow drinker. He swallowed down his guilt, seeing his husband’s face scrunch up at the smell of the wine. He heard the thud of glass against wood as Fundy set the bottles on the table, a resigned look on the fox hybrid’s face.</p><p>
  <em>“I make no promises. Oh, you placed torches.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Yeah, I thought it would help set the mood.”</em> Dream tries not to wince at the bitter lie. He hadn’t meant that at all. He just couldn’t bring himself to tell Fundy that the room was too dark. He didn’t want to sound like he was complaining. He gritted his teeth, taking a big gulp of whiskey, the back of his throat burning at the taste.</p><p><em>“What's ‘the mood’?” </em>Fundy took a shaky step towards the last remaining chair. At least Dream chose the chair next to the wall, if he wanted to, Fundy could just run off into the hall. He looked at the wine, but didn’t reach for a glass.</p><p>
  <em>“Hmm… hopeful?”</em>
</p><p>Dream placed the glass down, reaching for Fundy’s hand across the table. A soft smile was on his face, his green eyes glazed as if he were in another realm. <em>“Just like our first date, when we watched Treasure Planet…” </em>Dream let out a small laugh, recalling how excited his husband had been for their movie date. Dream had never seen the movie before… he’d never seen a movie before… at least, not a holographic one. Fundy was amazing. He laced his fingers with  his husband’s, <em>“…drank two bottles of wine.”</em></p><p><em>“This is different. These years have gone by…” </em>Fundy glared at their entangled fingers, breaking off from his ex-husband’s hold. <em><strike>He immediately missed the warmth.</strike></em> He glanced down at his plate, willing away the parallels of their past and the now. <em>“…my whole life was a lie.” </em>Fundy peered up, knowing that Dream saw what he did. It was different… but it still felt as if…</p><p>
  <em>“But there's something that feels so familiar,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>we've been here before.”</em>
</p><p>“Staring at each other.” <em>Fundy wished he had never looked at Dream. <strike>But did he really?</strike></em></p><p>“Suddenly caring for each other.” <em>Dream wished he had never cared for Fundy. <strike>But did he really?</strike></em></p><p>
  <em>“Moving on to</em>
</p><p>
  <em>question 2.”</em>
</p><p>"Would you like to be famous? In what way?" <em>Fundy scoffed. Dream was already famous. <strike>As a tyrant.</strike></em></p><p>“We're asking 36… 36… 36… 36 questions to each other.” <em>Dream couldn’t waste this. He just couldn’t.</em></p><p>“Tonight's 36 reasons why you and I cannot be healthy for each other.” <em>Dream would be the death of him.</em></p><p>
  <em>“We're asking 36… 36… 36… 36 questions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>tonight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>36… 36… 36… 36 questions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>for the second time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>36… 36… 36… 36 questions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>for the last time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>36… 36… 36.. 36 questions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>for the last time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>36… 36… 36… 36 questions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>for the last time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>36… 36… 36… 36 questions</em>
</p><p>
  <em>for the last time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>36… 36… 36… 36…”</em>
</p><p>They met each other’s eyes.</p><p>
  <strong>“This will be the last thing.”</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. We Both</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WHAT? DOUBLE UPLOAD?</p>
<p>Yeah... School is dragging me by the ankles since it's last the second to the last week before we finish with the semester. Either way, I'm not trying so there will still be one chapter per day. However, I'll be uploading the chapters in different times (so, for my time, it would be like... 2 in the morning?)</p>
<p>Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter! (Note: I won't be following the storyline of the musical that closely as before since the situation has changed from the one I planned for this fic. Just wanted to say, I'm really sorry if it's not really following the storyline of the musical ;-;). Well, have fun with this chapter, nearly halfway done woo! So... this is like the first song from Act 2 of the musical. Well, that's all I have to say. Bye bye!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was just his luck. Fundy grumbled as he helped Dream place torches around the dining room, a strike of lightning having taken out the power before they could begin the questions. Fundy rubbed at his elbow, feeling the chill that seeped into the room. Dream walked past him, humming under his breath as if he was enjoying every second of the situation. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was all a part of your plan.”</p>
<p>Dream glanced towards the fox hybrid’s direction, placing a torch on the wall as he did. He felt a smile tug on the edge of his lips, “Fundy, I wouldn’t manipulate the weather for something life this.”</p>
<p>“How can I trust your word on that?”</p>
<p>“…I suppose you just have to.” Fundy rolled his eyes at the answer, settling back into his chair as Dream finished lighting up the room. He looked down at the bottle of wine on the table. He shouldn’t…</p>
<p>“Like I trusted you these past few years? I wonder what doing that got me, hm? Oh, wait.”</p>
<p>“Fundy, I― You know I― I didn’t lie about everything―”</p>
<p>“Well with you, I can’t really tell. You’ve lied to me. A lot.” Fundy huffed, clawing at the edge of the table as he heard the other chair scrape against the wooden floor. He could feel Dream’s eyes on him, but he kept his attention to the wine bottle at the side of the table. He needed a cig. He shook his head. No. No. No. What would Niki and Ranboo think? “You… You literally said to the entire world: <em>‘I don’t care about anything in this server, except for a child’s discs’</em>!”</p>
<p>“If I recall, this happened at the same time where you called me <em>‘your bitch’</em>.” Dream felt a scowl form on his lips. It shouldn’t have upset him, but it did. He expected the others, of course he did. But his own husband actively insulting him while Tommy threatened to burn the remains of his dead horse? Fundy knew how much he loved Spirit, and yet he― “I know we promised that no matter what political agenda we chose, it wouldn’t ruin our relationship, but he threatened to burn Spirit’s remains. Fundy―”</p>
<p>“You broke that promise the moment you gave Wilbur the <em>fucking </em>TNT.” Fundy slammed his hands against the table, the wine bottle clattering to the side, though it didn’t break. He felt his heart burning with rage, a low growl ripping through his throat as he tried to contain his anger. That promise. <em>That fucking promise</em>. A promise made by a newlywed and naïve couple who thought they held eternity and immortality in their hands. “You… Y-you took my dad away, Dream. You took him away… and I never got to say I was sorry.”</p>
<p>Dream kept his mouth shut, the soft sobs of his husband tearing a hole into his heart. There was nothing he could say. There was nothing he should say. He had wanted Manburg gone, wanted <em>Schlatt</em> gone. Wilbur was his vassal, a worthy man to his cause. <em><strike>How was he to know that the man would choose to die?</strike></em></p>
<p>“I need a moment.” Fundy stood up from the table, his feet dragging against the floor as he walked out into the hallway. He swallowed down the bitter guilt that gnawed at the back of his throat as he shuffled towards one of the cabinets that occupied the small hall. He gripped the wooden knob, pulling the drawer open as he fumbled for a familiar box in the cramped space. <em>“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”</em></p>
<p>Dream stayed silent as he watched Fundy disappear into the hall, gripping the glass of whiskey in his hands so tightly that he feared it might break into shards. He poured himself another glass, begging for his mind to succumb to a haze of euphoria and giddiness. They’d been making progress… but now… He sighed.</p>
<p>He coughed, choking as a familiar scent of smoke reached his nose. He placed the glass down, gaze snapping towards the hall as he caught a glimpse of Fundy’s tail disappear to the right. It wasn’t the smoke of a fire. It wasn’t the stench of flint and steel. It was the scent of nicotine that stained the air. His head spun as he cautiously walked towards the hall, peeking around the corner. He felt his heart clench in his chest, a burning ache as he watched a small flicker of light and gray smoke dance within the darkness.</p>
<p>He trembled as he held onto the edge of the doorway for support, his fingers clenched against the frame as he watched his husband indulge himself in a vice he’d never thought Fundy would have. Not after… He held back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. What the fuck happened in New L’Manburg these few weeks? He tried to shake himself from the mist that clouded his mind. He couldn’t let this happen. He couldn’t watch this happen. Not to Fundy. He knew Fundy wanted space… but he had to stop this.</p>
<p>Fundy took a long inhale of smoke, the gray circles floating in the air in front of him as euphoria filled his veins. He moved his hand to take another, but a hand clamped down his wrist. He looked to the side. Dream’s bright green eyes stared back at him through the dark. He shivered at the worry in those eyes, a worry he hadn’t seen in weeks. He didn’t think he would ever actually see them again. He let Dream drag his raised hand away from his mouth, let him pry his stiff fingers off the stick of white.</p>
<p>He barely registered the creak of the front door, the harsh rush of wind that scratched against his cheek. He barely heard the distinct sound of boots crunching against until it was gone, along with the chill of the storm outside. Fundy blinked, eyes focusing on the chest in front of him. He coughed, backing away from Dream as he headed back into the kitchen. “Sorry. You didn’t come here for that. We should go back―”</p>
<p>“I came here for you, Fundy. You matter.” Dream trailed after his husband, nearly bumping into the fox hybrid as Fundy turned around to face him. He reached out a hand, hesitating as his fingers hovered to cup Fundy’s cheek. He settled on placing his hand on Fundy’s shoulder instead. “You matter to me.”</p>
<p>Fundy didn’t say anything, his voice lost as he headed back into the kitchen. He needed to make dinner. He heard Dream settle in his previous seat, the tell-tale screech of a chair scratching against the floor.</p>
<p>“So… that second question…?”</p>
<p>“Hm. Right.” Fundy didn’t glance up, gathering raw meat from his storage. <em><strike>He hoped his food supply didn’t go bad…</strike></em> “Question 2. ‘Would you like to be famous? In what way?’”</p>
<p>“I’m already famous.” Dream fiddled with the glass of whiskey in his hands, setting it down as nausea settled into the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t bring himself to indulge… in that. He took to watching Fundy scour through the kitchen, “I wouldn’t want to be famous again. At least not in this way… you?”</p>
<p>“If I could be famous… I’d want to be famous for something. Something worthwhile. Something… cool.”</p>
<p>Dream watched as Fundy scampered around the kitchen, holding… <em>very questionable meat</em>. He winced, hoping that Fundy wouldn’t be too pissed off if he chose not to eat anything for the night. His husband’s answer… hasn’t changed, despite everything he’s done for his country, “Fundy, you’re already cool.”</p>
<p>“Oh… uh, thanks.” Fundy stuffed the meat into the furnace, busying himself with his thoughts as he tried not to swoon at the compliment. “Next question?”</p>
<p>“Question 3. ‘Before calling someone on the communicator, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?”</p>
<p>“I only rehearse if Wil’s on the other side of the communicator… not that I have to worry about that anymore.” Fundy heard the ding of the furnace, the low thrum of heat dying down. “…you?”</p>
<p>“I don’t rehearse, it usually takes one word from me before the other person on the other side hangs up.” Dream let out a groan at that, hearing the clatter of plates as Fundy placed their dinner on the table. “I don’t rehearse… even if it is a serious conversation. You know me, I say what I want without thinking.”</p>
<p>“I know that’s what your answer was on our first date.” Fundy crossed his arms in front of his chest, sitting down on the <em>nearly</em> ready to collapse chair. <em><strike>How lucky that Dream chose the sturdy chair</strike></em>. He peered down at the meat on his plate, feeling sick as he thought of even taking a bite of that… thing. He really should’ve checked his food supply. “I’d love to hear what your real answer is. Is that difficult for you to do?”</p>
<p>“Fundy, I didn’t lie or hide details about everything.” Dream held back his scoff, knowing how Fundy would take that as. “I was genuine. I don’t think my one slip of the tongue should ruin everything I told you.”</p>
<p>“Even if said slip of the tongue just so happened to be, ‘I don’t care about anyone or anything’?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean it like that.” Dream sighed. He wished he could show the regret he felt the moment he saw Fundy flinch as he spoke those words. He meant to apologize after, but… He couldn’t find the time.</p>
<p>“What did you mean? Because I don’t know who you are right now, Dream. Who are you?”</p>
<p>“It’s still me, Fundy. I’m still me.” Dream held back the desperation in his voice, the tinge of panic that threatened to seep into his tone. He wanted this to work. He needed this to work. “You have to trust that. You have to trust me. I’m still the Dream you married. I swear!”</p>
<p>“I want to trust you, Dream. I lo― I want to trust you so badly but I can’t help what I feel.” Fundy felt the strain in his voice, the aching and longing in his voice. He wished he wasn’t so sensitive. He wished he had his real husband back. “How can I trust what you say? How can I trust that you didn’t lie to me before? How do I know that your still my Dream?”</p>
<p>“Because…” Dream froze, his walls crumbling to the floor.</p>
<p><em>“When I was with you, I was real. When I was with you, I could be myself.” </em>Dream tried to keep the tremor out of his voice. It was true. It was all true, <em>“When I was with you, I didn't feel lost, confused or frightened…”</em></p>
<p>He felt human. He felt free, <em>“…or scared to be who I am.”</em></p>
<p><em>“When I was with you, I was real... We both think you look great in my green sweater.”</em> Dream never lied about that. It was true.<em> “We both enjoy an empty space. We both are actual human beings to miners.”</em></p>
<p>He laughed at that, a humorless sound that didn’t sound right to either of them. <em>“We both are not totally straight. None of that changes.” </em>He looked up, an empty and glazed look in Fundy’s gaze as they stared at each other from across the messy table. He wished he could reach out. He missed his husband. Dream cocked his head to the side, a reassuring smile on his face,<em> “None of that has changed, okay?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Okay…”</em> Fundy sucked in a breath, his brain muddled with confusion and apprehension. He remembered those times. He remembered them. He remembers the day he accidentally showed up in Manburg, the green sweater on his person. He remembers the incredulous look on Schlatt’s face, the way he reeled back as if he had been stung. Quackity had let out a loud laugh, recognizing the sweater. Fundy had to race back to the cabin he shared with Dream, flustered beyond comprehension.</p>
<p><em>“We both like drinking hot tea in warm weather. We both like playing guitar.” </em>Dream smiled at the memories. The first time they’d cuddled in their shared cabin on a lazy summer day. The day Fundy had forced him to learn the guitar <em>(“Dreaaam! Come on, babe! You’ll do great!”</em>). He laughed to drown out the nostalgia, picking at the cold steak in front of him. Fundy always brought out the best in him.<em> “We both like when you tell me the plots of bad stories. We both forget our stuff at the house almost always.”</em></p>
<p>He was himself. He was Dream. He wasn’t Dream the War-Hungry Tyrant. He wasn’t Dream, Ruler of the Essempy. He was just Dream. <em>“When I was with you, I was real. When I was with you, I could be myself.” </em>There was no war with Fundy. There were no responsibilities to uphold… no discs to chase after… no power to hunger for. He was with Fundy. That was all that mattered in those times. He bit back the smile that threatened to appear on his lips,<em> “When I was with you, I was real, like as real as my green sweater…”</em></p>
<p><em>“…that I left at your house one time. When I am with you I am real.” </em>Dream let himself chuckle at that memory,<em> “Now, do you remember what I said the first time we did the questions? About my perfect day?”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Yes. You said that tomorrow could be the perfect day if we let it be. That's not the kind of answer you forget, especially when the person answering it is leaning close to your face.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“You thinking about that time?” </em>Dream nudged himself closer to the table, his elbows leaning against the wooden surface as he leaned just a tad bit closer to Fundy. <em><strike>Not nearly as close as the first time though</strike></em>.</p>
<p><em>“I'm remembering it.”</em> Fundy rolled his eyes, staying where he was despite the… loss of space as Dream moved closer. He wasn’t going to back down. <em>Pfft, as if that was supposed to scare him</em>. He giggled a bit as he recalled their first date, wondering if…<em> “Do you remember my answer?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Hmm… with broad strokes. Picnic in the park with your family. Mini-muffin basket for lunch.” </em>Bad would have loved to meet Fundy, not that Dream ever introduced Fundy to his friends. A mistake on his part. He kept his gaze on Fundy’s, watching as those eyes he loved brightened with every right answer. <em>“Everyone getting together under a big blanket and watching the clouds or the stars move by through the sky.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Still true.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“And I'd still wanna be there with you.” </em>Dream choked at his words. Did he really just say that? <em>Shit</em>. He averted his eyes as Fundy’s full and undivided attention turned to him. He quickly withdrew back into his chair, looking at the steak as if it was the most appetizing thing in the world. <em>Why would you say that?</em></p>
<p>He wracked through his brain for the next question, <em>“Question 5. ‘When was the last time you sang to yourself? To someone else?’” </em>Yes. Move on to the next question, Dream. Pretend that didn’t just happen.</p>
<p>
  <em>“This afternoon. To Batry.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“What about to yourself?” </em>Dream raised a brow, intrigued at what Fundy might answer. Fundy sung or hummed if he was busy, he could’ve sung to himself quite recently. At least, that’s what Dream thought.</p>
<p><em>“They only stayed for half.” </em>They both let out a laugh at that, Fundy shaking his head as Batry flew and squeaked indignantly above them. Fundy recalled that incident. Batry had been sleeping and though Fundy tried to keep his voice down and the noise to a minumum, the bat didn’t seem to appreciate his interruption and quickly flew into the next room. Which was rude because, hey, Fundy was a great singer.</p>
<p>
  <em>“The last time I sang was on my way over here, through the storm.”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“You sang?!”</em> Fundy nearly stood up at that. Dream singing?! Oh, two words that are never in the same sentence enough. They only time he’s ever heard his hus― ex-husband sing was when he’d accidentally catch him playing the guitar on his own.<em> “What did you sing?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Oh, I'm gonna die out here…” </em>Dream chuckled as Fundy’s face morphed into that cute little expression he did when he was surprised, the way his ears would rise above his head and the way his tail would floof and wag behind him. It was adorable, and Dream nearly melted when Fundy had done it on their first date. Dream would have swooned right then and there if they hadn’t had a lot of questions left to answer… and if he didn’t want to keep Fundy in a good mood.</p>
<p><em>“Oh, that song. I forgot about that one.” </em>Fundy knew that song, recognizing it as the song Dream had been humming in… the final control room― ANYWAY. He nodded along, eager to at least hear Dream’s singing voice again. Dream stared at him for a moment, recognition dawning in those green eyes of his before he began to continue the song. Fundy’s ears twitched, thumping his fingers along with the beat as Dream sung the lyrics. <em><strike>It was funny how only a few knew that Dream could actually sing</strike></em>.</p>
<p><em>“And I think that counts as me singing to someone else. Ask me the next one.” </em>Dream sighed in relief as he finished off the last line, Fundy settling back into his seat as the show ended. He felt his face heating up, not used to actually singing in front of anyone before. Maybe Sapnap and George but they usually joined in with him, and those would devolve into random shenanigans. Had he ever sung in front of Fundy before? He had meant to at the wedding, an alternative to his vows, but he didn’t get to sing―</p>
<p><em>“Question 6. ‘If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?’” </em>Fundy moved on to the next question.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Do you remember my answer?”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“Body.” </em>Fundy wasn’t quite sure if Dream said that because that’s what he actually was or if that was a genuine answer. Dream was cryptic that way. He always was, somehow. <em>“Do you remember mine?”</em></p>
<p><em>“Mind. See? Nothing has changed. We're still a good half-sexy team.”  </em>They both giggled (Dream wheezed) that, though Fundy tried to muffle his own laughter. <em>“Question 7. "Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?" You said that you thought you were gonna die in a fire, but you weren't sure how.”</em></p>
<p><em>“Right?” </em>Fundy forced a smile on his face, knowing that he kept some information from his answer. When he… burnt the flag… he almost hoped that… He shook his head, a strange gesture on Dream’s end as he watched his husband suddenly shake his head as if a small spider had landed on his nose. No bad thoughts, Fundy. No bad thoughts. Just say Dream’s answer,<em> “And you said that you weren't afraid of death.”</em></p>
<p><em>“And I'm still not. I'm only afraid of dying alone.” </em>Dream shuddered at the words, knowing… everyone hated him now. If he died… would anyone even― He didn’t want to think about it.<em> “Read the next one.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Question 8. ‘Name 3 things you and your partner appear to have in common.’”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“Easy. We both are super good at coding things to life.” </em>Dream smiled. He gave Fundy admin powers once…<em> “We both become monsters when we lose. We both think we have the best worst name for a game.”</em></p>
<p>Dream chuckled at the last one, <em>“We both ask Tubbo for our news.”</em></p>
<p>They used to ask Tommy, but Tommy hasn’t been in New L’Manburg for quite some time. Dream looked down at hands, knowing that Fundy was thinking the same thing. <em>“There's 4.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“We both say that I’m so much better at cooking.”</em>
</p>
<p>Fundy didn’t want to think about Tommy, <em>“We both hate that kitchen island we built.” </em>He continued with his answer.<em> “We both need a glass of water on the bedside table. We both sleep early purely out of guilt.”</em></p>
<p>“We both have dreams much bigger than ourselves.” <em>They both reached for the sun</em>.</p>
<p>“We both think that's how to live.” <em>Casting their wings…</em></p>
<p>“We both put up a fight for all the right reasons.” <em>…despite it all.</em></p>
<p>“And we both eventually give.” <em>Only to fall into the deep abyss below.</em></p>
<p><em>“I tried so hard to separate who you are from who you were.” </em>He had been living in denial, until… Fundy closed his eyes, nothing’s changed. Why has nothing changed? The words. The answers. <em><strike>His laugh</strike></em>. It felt familiar. It felt like home. Each time he looked up, all he’d see were the same green eyes that he’d seen for the past few years. He gripped the edge of the table, his breath shaky as he tried to console himself… why has nothing changed? <em>“But now I'm reevaluating how similar you are to him.”</em></p>
<p>He knows this man, he loved him once, didn’t he? <em>“You have the same voice and the same cadence when you speak.” </em>It was the same voice that whispered sweet-nothings into his ear as he cooked or before they went to sleep. It was the same voice who screamed him a warning each time a spider would get too close to him. It was the voice of a man he’d thought he’d share forever with. <em><strike>It was still his Dream</strike></em>. <em>“If I close my eyes, you still sound to me like the old Dream.”</em></p>
<p><em>“When I was with you, I was real.” </em>Dream didn’t lie about everything, didn’t twist his words to fit into a narrative he was desperate to be in. He moved his chair closer, his meal forgotten as he placed his seat right beside Fundy’s. Fundy watched him from the corner of his eyes, not a word of protest escaping the fox hybrid’s lips. Dream wished he could reach for his husband’s hand. He settled for holding his own hand to his chest, a promise of sorts,<em> “When I was with you, I could be myself.”</em></p>
<p>
  <em>“Am I in love with the old Dream?”</em>
</p>
<p>Fundy ran a hand through his hair, sparing a glance towards the man beside him. He felt conflicted. It should be difficult, not… Fundy didn’t know. This was the Dream he knew, the Dream he loved… but was it? <em><strike>To admit this Dream was the same Dream who blew up his home… could he do that?</strike> </em>Could he learn to love… <em>that</em>. Fundy shut his eyes, leaning back into his seat. It would be easy to think if he couldn’t feel the heat emanating from the man beside him. <em><strike>He didn’t pull away though</strike></em>. <em>“Or who's right in front of me?”</em></p>
<p>“When I am with you I can feel…” <em>It would be so easy not to feel anything.</em></p>
<p>“…shivers running down my spine.” <em>But they both couldn’t help it.</em></p>
<p>“Your skin close to mine.” <em>The other felt warm to the touch.</em></p>
<p>“It's like my 5 senses make my heart defenseless.” <em>It shouldn’t feel this right.</em></p>
<p>“With you.” <em>But it was. <strike>As much as they both wished it wasn’t.</strike></em></p>
<p><em>“When I am with you, I am real.” </em>Dream didn’t lie about everything. He wished Fundy could see that.</p>
<p><em>“When I am with you I am actually too real.” </em>Dream leaned closer, resting his head at the back of Fundy’s chair. This close, it was enough for him. This was enough. His eyes closed as a smile appeared on his lips,<em> “When I am with you everything feels…”</em></p>
<p><em>“With you… With you…” </em>Fundy looked down, seeing the content look on Dream’s face. He wished it wasn’t so endearing. He wished it didn’t bring a smile to his face.<em> “With you…”</em></p>
<p><em>This felt… </em>“So real.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Our Word</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! So, welcome to the seventh chapter of this story! We're halfway done. *looks to the next few songs* OH NO. I'm approaching Pain Central ;-;</p><p>Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! I hope the sudden change of schedule is okay with you guys since I've had to rearrange my current schedule due to school work. Well, that's all I have to say. Bye bye!</p><p>(Also... let it be known that this line: 'I was speedrunning on a Tuesday night' was supposed to be in the fic.<br/>But it didn't make sense so I didn't put in. I'm sorry for robbing you of this line XDDD)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fundy coughed, scraping the chair against the wooden floor as he put a bit of space between him and Dream, there moment gone as soon as he had realized what Dream was trying to do. He couldn't himself give in that easily. <strike><em>He just couldn't.</em></strike> He tried not to laugh as Dream nearly fell to the floor at the sudden movement. He looked down at their forgotten meal, shaking his head as he knew neither of them would bite into what was clearly rotten meat. He picked at the edge of his white shirt, cutting a piece of it off. He hid his scowl, preferring not to send the wrong message to Dream. He needed to stop tearing off pieces of his clothes. This was the fifth one this week. Niki and Ranboo had berated him so many times that he couldn't even count the instances anymore. He shook his head, he didn't need to think about that. “Sorry, I thought I had a decent food supply. Should have checked this afternoon. I think Niki told me to check but I've been so busy that I mighta sorta, forgot? I don't think I have anything else and I'm sure the storm's ruined the farm. Would you look at that, I guess we’ll both starve, huh?”</p><p>“I could teleport us to our cabin. It wouldn't be too difficult. No one would have to see you and no one would have to see me. It would be the two of us... I could teleport us... j-just so we don’t starve!” Dream quickly added as those slitted, gold-flecked brown eyes snapped towards him. Fundy's mouth was pressed into a grim line, his fingers gripping his shirt. Dream sat up on the chair, averting his gaze from his husband’s scrutiny. He didn't want Fundy to think he was trying to lure him back... although maybe he should've thought about that option. He needed Fundy to trust him. Besides, it'll be one night... in their cabin... the cabin where they used to live together. He swallowed down his nervousness, hoping Fundy couldn't hear it in his tone, “I’ve been maintaining the food supply in case you… I assumed you might... I hoped you... I... or you know we could starve, that’s a good idea too.”</p><p>“…Have you been staying in our cabin?”</p><p>“You still think of it as ours?”</p><p>“Dre― You know what I mean.”</p><p>Dream forced down his amused laughter, pushing himself out of his chair as he began to take their unfinished meal from the table. “Sapnap and George are currently mad at me, so I’ve been staying at our cabin. I also thought you might come back if I waited long enough…” He whispered, mostly to himself.</p><p>“I can hear you, there’s nothing you can say that I wouldn’t know about.” Fundy’s ear twitched at the top of his head, watching as Dream disappeared shortly into the kitchen. Did he want to go back to their cabin? He sighed, his ears pressing against his head. Was it a trap? It definitely felt like one. “And…, I can’t blame George and Sapnap, they have every right to be mad after that little stunt you pulled.”</p><p>“I said that in the heat of the moment.”</p><p>“Did you also tell that to them or am the I first person you’re apologizing to?” Fundy nodded to himself, Dream’s silence was answer enough. “You fucked up.”</p><p>“…I know.”</p><p>“I’ll go back to the cabin with you, if you promise me one thing.” Fundy leaned back, balancing himself on the back legs of the chair. “We’re only going there to eat. Nothing else, ya? It doesn’t mean anything.”</p><p>“We’re only going back to the cabin so we don’t starve, okay.” Dream emerged from the kitchen, glancing at the chair that Fundy sat on. He pursed his lips together. The cabin was… a bit of a mess, though not as horrible as the one they were currently in. He hasn’t had the time to clean. He began to pull at the air, a small holographic panel appearing at his fingertips. Admin magic. It did come in handy at times. As he searched for the coordinates, he spared a glance towards the fox hybrid, “Are we taking the bat with us?”</p><p>“Wha― Yes, we’re taking Batry with us! I’m not going to leave them here in the dark… alone… abandoned… unwanted…” Fundy kept his voice low at the last two words, knowing that Dream wouldn’t hear him. He wrapped his around his chest, leaning further against the chair. One night. At their cabin. Oh, Niki and Ranboo would kill him if they knew. He hoped everyone was asleep or busy doing whatever it is they did in New L’Manburg these days. “Wait, hold on. I have to grab something before we―”</p><p>Fundy let out a small yelp, the echo of wood splintering as one of the back legs of the chair collapsed into itself. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable crash. It didn’t come. He slowly opened his eyes, and nearly fainted out of embarrassment. Dream had caught him, one arm wrapped behind his back as a hand held on tightly to the collar of his shirt. An awkward silence ensued, both of them floundering for words. Fundy was flustered, his words tangling into an incoherent mess. “Eh… Uh… Wha… <em>Shit</em>… EHHHH??!!”</p><p>“You really fell for me there, huh?”</p><p>“Shut up, Dream.” Dream helped him to his feet, letting go as soon as Fundy had his feet firmly on the ground. Fundy looked up, seeing the smirk on his ex-husband’s face. “That was the chair’s fault, Dream.”</p><p>“Or it could be fate.”</p><p>“No. No. No. No. No.” Fundy held up a hand, backing away from Dream. He didn’t believe in fate. That would be stupid of him. “That was an accident. It’s not my fault you have fast reflexes.”</p><p>“Would you rather I let you fall to the ground?” Dream quirked a brow, watching as the fox hybrid fumbled for a response. Dream didn’t quite know what had happened, one moment he was looking up from the control panel, suddenly he was leaping across the room as he heard the sound of wood cracking through the air. Pure instinct. “You could just thank me…”</p><p>Fundy gave him a pointed look before leaving the dining room.</p><p>“Or not…” Dream sighed, watching the tip of Fundy’s tail disappear down the hallway. Too soon. Shouldn’t have made that joke. He nodded to himself, as if taking note of that. “Should not have said that, Dream.”</p><p>Batry squeaked, flapping their wings as they settled on the crook of Dream’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck.</p><p>“You think so too, huh?” He petted the bat’s head, booping their little nose as they both waited for Fundy to come back. “What do you think, Batry? Think I still got a chance here?”</p><p>Batry didn’t say anything, merely nuzzling further into the crook of Dream’s neck. <em>So much for support</em>. Dream sighed, guess he’d just have to see where this night would lead to. He reached to comb a hand through his hair, jolting as he realized he’d left his mask in Fundy’s room. Batry squeaked in indignation as Dream bolted out of the dining room, his hurried footsteps loud against the creaky steps of the stairs.</p><p>Fundy looked up from the enderchest, his ears pricking up as he heard the thump of footsteps in the hall. For some reason, he waited for the slam of the front door… the all-consuming silence of an empty house… it didn’t come. He could hear the muffled steps from above as, he assumed, Dream walked around. He shook his head, turning his attention back to scouring through his mess of stuff. His fingers grazed the familiar cool handle of a trident… the trident Dream had given him for their anniversary…</p><p>He placed the item into his inventory, just in case. He headed back into the hall just as Dream came back down the stairs, mask in hand. They stared at each other, as if they had both caught the other doing a heinous crime. Fundy scratched the back of his arm, wondering if Dream could see his thoughts through his eyes. Batry flew into the hall, setting themselves on Fundy’s shoulder as they gazed at the two of them with curious black eyes. Dream broke the silence first, “I just went to get my mask.”</p><p>“I didn’t ask for an explanation.” Dream winced at the quick reply. Of course, there was nothing weird about what he’d done. Why would he think otherwise? Dream leapt off the last step of the stairs, his boots thudding against the wooden floor. He willed the holographic panel into existence, typing in the coordinates as fast as he could. <em><strike>And if his fingers were trembling, well, Fundy didn’t say anything about it</strike></em>. “Did you get what you were looking for? What was it?”</p><p>“Ya, I did. Don’t worry about it.” Fundy stepped closer to the man, his eyes narrowing as a familiar code of numbers appeared on the command box. “Back… to the cabin we go.”</p><p>“Yeah… it’s been lonely since you left.”</p><p>“Well, I am the life of the party so I can see why.” The joke came out dryly, an attempt at humor. Fundy tried not to wince as Dream flinched. “Ya, just bring us to the cabin. It better not be a mess in there.”</p><p>“I make no promises.” Dream entered the code, the air shifting around them as the walls began to melt. Fundy shuddered, pressing closer to Dream as the world around them disintegrated and rearranged itself. Reality fell away, morphing into a familiar room of a house Fundy never thought he’d ever come back to.</p><p>“Oh… nothing’s changed.”</p><p>Their living room looked just as he had left. The pictures that Dream insisted to place on the walls were the same, those creepy eyes staring down at them in judgment. The flowers he had placed in a vase on the middle of the coffee table were wilted, but that was to be expected. The house still smelled the same, a hint of lime and orange entangled into the air. It felt as if he had never even left.</p><p>“I tried not to… change anything. I couldn’t really bring myself to…” Dream walked towards the switch, a flood of iridescent blue light illuminating the room. Dream remembered the day Fundy had installed the redstone for the place, shushing Dream away from the cabin as if he didn’t trust him with something as complex as redstone. He felt a small smile tug at the edges of his lips as he watched his husband look through the space they once shared, “Did… anything change? What’s your verdict?”</p><p>“Aside from the flowers, nothing’s changed.” Fundy settled onto the couch, nearly letting out a contented sigh as he felt the soft cushions. The coach he had back in Drywaters was rough and smelt of spilt coffee. <em><strike>He really should steal someone else’s couch at some point</strike></em>. He curled up into the couch, hearing Dream walk away as the sound of a cutlery filled the air. Good. He didn’t really want to cook anything. He placed his head on the couch’s arm, his eyes closing as he let himself reminisce.</p><p>Dream wandered into the kitchen, clutching the mask to his chest as he thought of what he could make. What could make this night go a little bit right? He froze, their first date. He rushed to the food supply, hoping that he had the ingredients for filet mignon steak and roasted duck. Though… whether he knew how to cook them was the question here. He just hoped that he didn’t accidentally burn the kitchen down… because that would just be his luck, wouldn’t it? Well. Here’s to hoping he does a good job.</p><p>A moment later, Fundy felt a hand on his shoulder. He screeched, bolting out of the couch as he fumbled through his inventory for a sword.</p><p>“Woah! Woah! Woah! It’s just me, Fundy!”</p><p> Fundy groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “For fuck’s sake, Dream. Don’t do that. That’s how Wilbur used to wake me up during―”</p><p>He didn’t continue that. Dream nodded stiffly, placing their meal on the table as he settled on the single chair instead. Fundy hesitantly walked over to the couch, his eyes narrowing at the choice of food Dream had chosen to cook. He was beginning to think this was an elaborate trap. <em>“You fell asleep on the couch. I wasn’t going to wake you but you might stab in my sleep if you woke up here in the morning.”</em></p><p>“You would be correct.” Fundy looked up at Batry who had settled on the ceiling above them, squeaking happily at the change of scenery. Fundy looked down at the roasted duck, wondering how many hours he had been asleep for. <em><strike>Roasted duck does not cook itself in a minute</strike></em>. He spots the black edges of the duck, hiding his amusement at the way Dream somehow managed to ruin roasted duck. “Back to what we were actually doing. Ask me the next question.”</p><p>“Right. The question.” Dream wracked through his brain. They were on question nine. He took a bite of filet mignon, the edges tougher than the inner parts of the steak. “Question 9. ‘For what in your life do you feel most grateful?’” He took another bite, wincing as he felt the crunch of a part of the steak he had burnt. After a moment, he glanced back up. Fundy’s silence was… disturbing. Fundy was looking down at his dinner, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Why wasn’t he answering?</p><p>“I don’t know, Dream. Maybe… founding Drywaters? I really don’t know what to answer.” Fundy cut a piece of the roasted duck, the knife clinking against the plate. Dream didn’t press him, nodding his head as if he understood. <em><strike>Well maybe he did because he was there as everything Fundy cared about either died or exploded into a million pieces.</strike></em> “What’s your answer?” Fundy wouldn’t be surprised if Dream said something along the lines of power or his plans going right. <em><strike>That seemed like a reasonable answer, right?</strike></em></p><p>“I’m grateful for this chance.” Dream averted his gaze as Fundy looked up from his meal, an incredulous look dancing in his eyes. Did Fundy really expect he’d answer anything else other than that? He cleared his throat. He needed this to be said, “I’m grateful that you’re giving me another chance to prove that I’m the same Dream you fell in love with.”</p><p>“The same Dream I fell in love with… okay.” Fundy stopped eating. His appetite gone. <em><strike>It was definitely not because Dream was shit at cooking</strike></em>. “If you say so.”</p><p>“Ask me the next one.”</p><p>“Question 10. ‘If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?’” It was Dream’s turn to be silent. “Dream? This should be easy for you… y-you said you didn’t have parents.”</p><p>“About that…” Dream could feel the putrid taste of his old lie on his tongue. Fundy’s eyes narrowed, his mouth opening in shock and realization. It didn’t matter then. It still didn’t matter now. “I might have lied about my previous answer―”</p><p>“YOU LIED ABOUT HAVING NO PARENTS?!” Fundy wasn’t mad, not really, no. He knew a thing or two about shitty parents, he couldn’t exactly blame the blonde if he wanted to forget that part of his life. He was… surprised, is all. “Why? Are they that horrible that you wrote yourself as an orphan? Were you trying to get sympathy points from me? No, that wouldn’t make sense you knew Techno was my uncle―”</p><p>“I lied because they didn’t really matter.”</p><p>“You lied to me about your parents… because they didn’t matter?” Fundy raised a brow, confusion clouding his mind. He disowned Wil once, sure, but he did to get Schlatt’s trust. He wasn’t sure he could ever bring himself to completely disown the man, no matter how terrible of a father he was. He couldn’t do that to Wil. Dream didn’t share the same sentiment for his parents, “…you hated them that badly?”</p><p>“My mother was busy, didn’t quite have the time to raise a child. She would be at the house for one second before bolting out the door the next.” Dream sighed, pulling his chair closer to the table. He wasn’t close to his mother, but he certainly had a better relationship with her than… “My father was… well, people would call him a demon. He even had the horns for it and everything. Hm… He was an alcoholic. A smoker. A scammer. He even had a lot of weird titles he used to name himself… Senile old man…”</p><p>Fundy blinked, surprise in his face as he realized how familiar those terms were. He looked at Dream, but saw nothing that could confirm his suspicions. There was… No way… Dream wasn’t… He let out a small croak at the back of his throat. There was no <em>fucking</em> way! Dream stared at him, nodding his head as if he knew what Fundy was thinking. “You’re…” Fundy leaned further into the coach. His limbs growing cold at this sudden revelation. “Oh… wow… that… must suck… I’m so sorry… Oh, <em>fuck</em><em>―</em>”</p><p>“Yeah.” Dream placed his hands on the table, attention fixed on the edge of the wooden surface.</p><p>“I am so sorry, Dream.” Fundy pursed his lips together. “You’d probably like to change everything, huh?”</p><p>“That would be nice…” Dream sighed.</p><p>“What was it like?” Fundy paused, “Your childhood, that is.”</p><p><em>“When I was a little kid, like really little, like 8 or so…” </em>Dream let himself reminisce, the hurried words stumbling past his lips, <em>“I was playing in my father's study. A place in the house I wasn't supposed to go.”</em></p><p>He scoffed, moving on to Mr. Shitty Parental Unit, <em>“My father fancied himself a merchant.” </em>Go <em>dad</em>, woo…</p><p><em>“His study was filled with mystical products. He kept an alcohol bottle on the top of a shelf…” </em>He winced, shivering.<em> “…and it shattered on the ground when I slammed the door. I told my mother everything.”</em></p><p>Dream remembered the cold look on her face, <em>“I told her I was so, so sorry. She told me, ‘Don't cry.’” </em>She didn’t care about the bottle.<em> “’When he comes home tonight, we can make everything okay.’”</em></p><p>He remembers the first taste of a lie on his tongue, <em>“’This is all we have to say…’”</em></p><p>He remembers his father, <em>“’We don't remember an alcohol bottle. It must've fallen off its shelf alone.’” </em>He trembled.<em> “’We know you loved that, we're so sad it's broken, but neither one of us was even home.’"</em></p><p>His father’s face was contorted in unbridled fury… <em>“And it's our word.”</em></p><p>He swallowed down the taste of fear in the back of his throat, <em>“Yes, our word against his.” </em>His father had been disappointed, but that didn’t erase their <em>love</em> for him, if it could be called that. <em><strike>A problem child</strike></em>. His mother wasn’t any better,<em> “So I hid screw-ups from my father. Made up fake awards to please my mom.”</em></p><p>He shook his head, his mind abuzz with memories he had forced down. <em>“Whatever made the steak taste better. Whatever kept the waters calm.” </em>His father was a man who lived by the coin, a stingy businessman who hungered for more than what he already had. <em><strike>More</strike></em>.<em> <strike>More</strike></em>. His mother was a busy woman, absent that he could barely recall her face. From a young age, he was raised with the idea that if you wanted something, you would do anything to get it.<em> “I was told to keep their secrets, and in turn they'd keep mine.”</em></p><p>The accumulation of lies he had made hung over his head, a heavy weight that threatened to fall and crush him if he wasn’t careful. <em>“As I got older, I got dumber. I couldn't help but cross the line.” </em>The <em>shit</em> he had gotten himself into, the mistakes that left scars upon his skin. He acted without thinking, assured by his own self-confidence that he never thought of the consequences. Not that his parents ever taught him any different. They <em>praised</em> him for it.<em> “Three times I nearly wrecked my life. Three times I nearly came to ruin.”</em></p><p>It was his own fault for being weak to chase after the advice of a man and woman who knew nothing but lies, <em>“Three times went crying to my parents, who said they'd make it go away.” </em>His father didn’t like anything that disrupted their <em>“perfect”</em> life. His mother didn’t like anything that disrupted their <em>“peaceful”</em> life. It made him sick, knowing he played along with their schemes. He had danced to their little waltz, upon a crimson-stained floor. <em>“Yes, this is all we had to say… ‘We never created a house in Essempy.’”</em></p><p>He could still see the red that stained his fingertips, <em>“’We didn't see that boy the day he died.’”</em></p><p>His father had merely glanced at him as he told him what he’d done. The man gave him a sharp smile, a smile that told him not to worry… <em>“’We haven't been on our boat in some years now, so we don't care what you found inside’.” </em>How was he to know what his parents had done? How was he to know that they would change the whole narrative? Frame someone else for his sins? <em>“And it's our word. Yes, our word.”</em></p><p>The echo of a bag of coins clinking together rang through his ears. <em>“It's our word. Yes, our word…” </em>His father settled matters in the way he knew best,<em> “…against theirs. Somebody was paid to make it go away.”</em></p><p>Dream turned his gaze to the floor, hiding his eyes. <em>“Everyone was paid to make the problems go away.”</em></p><p>It was easier that way. <em>“Doesn't matter who gets screwed, or who is blamed, or what you need to do to clear your name.” </em>Easier to lie. <em>“An inconvenient truth can be easily erased. When I was like, eighteen…”</em></p><p>The immense joy he felt when he ran from home, the freedom he gained as he found a new place to settle. A place where no one knew who he was, a place where he could be himself. <em>“I was living somewhere else. I developed some fun habits…” </em>He met George and Sapnap, the first real friends he’s ever had in life. They taught him a myriad of tricks, dangerous and risky… <em><strike>he enjoyed every one of them</strike></em>. It was the thrill of irresponsibility, the adrenaline in his veins, <em>“…put my many brain cells to work. I remember it so clearly.”</em></p><p>George and Sapnap had gone to look for iron, leaving him alone in the house they shared. <em>“I was parkouring on a Tuesday night. To increase speed, I'd drink some potions…” </em>He recalled the taste of nether wart and sugar on his tongue, the sickly-sweet stench that emitted from the bottle. It wasn’t his first, having drunk a few other potions within the day. He didn’t know why he did it. He knew it was a bad idea. He knew what might happen, <em>“…but couldn't seem to get my mind right. I set a goal and tried to do it.”</em></p><p>He bit the side of his cheek, metallic iron coating the inside of his mouth. His fingers trembled against the edge of the table he didn’t know he had been gripping, <em>“And suddenly became aware, I couldn't bring myself to stop running.” </em>He remembers the chilling wind on his cheek, the panic that blossomed in his chest as he had kept jumping and running. He remembers reaching the top, the world slowing down as his gaze flicked up towards the starry sky,<em> “I screamed as I fell off the edge, and as I laid there helplessly…”</em></p><p>He barely felt the soothing hand on his shoulder, those warm eyes – Fundy’s – that peered up into his own. <em>“A million different thoughts came to me. I saw my parents hearing the news…” </em>Would his parents have cared… if they did knew? <em>“’Your beloved son died today.’ I thought about what they might say.”</em></p><p>He held back his pitiful tears. They probably would have said, <em>“’Our own son, our Dream?’”</em></p><p>His father would laugh, incredulous and lost in a fog of alcohol, <em>“’No, he ran far away. He's very happy now, or so we guess.’” </em>His mother would scowl, insulted at the insinuation that own their son would…,<em> “’He's always been so goddamned independent. Years have gone by and we still haven’t see him.’"</em></p><p>Or maybe… just maybe… <em>"’Our own son, our Dream?’”</em></p><p>He pressed his lips together, his hands clenching into tight fists. <em>“’You must be mistaken. You mean the boy we raised as if our own?’” </em>Would they have denied their relations? Why admit that their own son ran away from them? That would tarnish their reputation, tarnish their perfect little stance on the world. <em><strike>They couldn’t have that.</strike></em> <em>“’We loved him so much he felt like our child, but eventually we had to send him home’.”</em></p><p>He felt hot tears run down his cheek, his hands rising to block out his face, <em>“It'd be their word. Only their word.” </em>He felt warm and gentle arms wrap around his shaking figure, <em>“It'd be their word. Only their word.”</em></p><p>He let himself be consoled for what felt like forever, <em>“On its own.”</em></p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Better Version</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! I am here with a new chapter!</p><p>(I am going to get murdered for how I ended this and how I'll be ending the next chapter)</p><p>Anyway, hope you guys like this!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I’m sorry you had a shitty childhood, Dream. I couldn't even imagine what it was like with... I hoped when he came here, he never found out who you were.” They both had settled onto Dream’s seat, Fundy perched on the edge as he stared down at Dream. His ears were pressed to the top of his head, his tail curled around the blonde as if to give him some semblance of comfort. He didn’t know what to say, his mouth opening and closing as he wondered what he could possibly do to change the situation. Dream murmured a string of incoherent words beneath his breath, words that Fundy couldn't understand. He leaned closer, wishing he could do something, anything to assure the blonde of... Fundy didn't know what. He just knew Dream needed him, needed a moment of his compassion and sympathy. For just this moment, Fundy let his anger ebb away. He understood where Dream was coming from. <strike><em>Sometimes parents manage to fuck up their kids in some form or another</em>.</strike></p><p>“Well, it didn’t matter when we moved to the Essempy. I haven’t thought about my first life in ages. Even when he came for the elections. He died never knowing who I was. I haven't left myself remember my old life. It’s been a while.” Dream held onto Fundy’s tail, petting it as if to cement himself to their current reality. He could feel Fundy at his side, his piercing gaze at the back of his head. His green eyes were glazed and vacant, lost to memories he thought he’d long forgotten. He recalls his father's laugh, the sound sending shivers down his spine. His father had a terrifying laugh, even if he was laughing at a miniscule joke it always came out as if he was losing it with every second that passed. He hated the sound, hated it ever since he was a kid. To hear it again... He trembled, the memory of his father's laughter all too recent. “It didn’t matter until... I didn't want it to matter but then… Then he... I tried to avoid the conflict, but it was only a matter of time before I was dragged into another war. For the record, I didn’t switch sides for whatever reason you might be thinking right now. Trust me on that, please.”</p><p>“I wouldn’t blame you for that, Dream… even if it was the answer.” Fundy couldn’t shake Dream’s answer, the details of a life far away from where they were now. He reached down, placing a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. He smiled as Dream turned towards him, his mouth agape as if he was waking up from a nightmare. Fundy moved closer, nearly falling into the blonde’s lap. He let out an awkward laugh, fixing his position on the chair they were both on. “So… you died before? That means you have two lives left…”</p><p>“The first time was painful… If I tried hard enough, I can still hear the crack of bones as my body fell against the unforgiving ground.” Dream shivered, tugging Fundy’s bushy tail towards his chest like a lifeline. He leaned his against Fundy’s back, feeling Fundy’s warmth as he tried to keep himself cemented to reality. He let his eyes fall shut, embracing the small moment that the two of them were currently sharing. “You can see why Wilbur’s insistence on the drug van caused me to panic.”</p><p>“Oh…”</p><p>“Yeah.” Dream nuzzled deeper into the back of Fundy’s shirt, all too aware that he himself was still wearing one of Fundy’s orange sweaters. “But I know that doesn’t change the way I reacted.”</p><p>“You blew L’Manburg up twice.”</p><p>“I know.” He let out a tired sigh, the sound muffled by the shirt. “It was a horrible mess that devolved terribly over these past few years… Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had just let it go.”</p><p>“Do you think we would have met on better terms?” Fundy glanced down, his hands occupying themselves by pulling at a loose string on his shirt. His ears strained to hear Dream’s reply, barely catching the small <em>‘I don’t know’</em> that the man muttered underneath his breath. He let out an empty laugh, wondering if they would have ever met at all. “It’s weird to think about… a world where we never knew each other. A world where we never met. You wouldn’t have needed me… and I wouldn’t have needed you. Never fell in love.”</p><p>“I’m not sure I would like that world.” Dream snorted, wheezing a bit as he pulled away from Fundy’s shirt. He shook his head, choosing to lean his head on the back of the seat instead. Fundy’s tail was wagging a bit, not quite happy but at least it wasn’t raised as if he planned to run at any given moment. He hummed underneath his breath, content to spend a few more seconds with his husband like this. <em><strike>But they needed to finish the questions</strike></em>. He cleared his throat, “What’s your answer to the question?”</p><p>“The question… The question.” Fundy grinned, leaning against the back of the chair. He placed an arm to support his head, laughing as he thought about his own answer. “Well, the question really should be what wouldn’t I wish to change? I wish my mom didn’t swim off into fuck knows where. I wish my dad didn’t go crazy and blow up the country I was raised in. I wish the ghost of my dad didn’t cling to my every damn fucking second. There’s a lot I wish I could change, Dream. Guess both of our lives suck.”</p><p>“No wonder we got along.”</p><p>“That’s not very positive of you, Dream. We didn’t fall for each other’s trauma.” Fundy snickered, trying to shake off the hollow feeling in his chest at the mention of his father. “If I could change everything, I would ask to be born in a family that actually cared. A mother that didn’t run away. A father that didn’t prioritize everything but me. An uncle who isn’t exiled and another uncle who didn’t look at me as if he wanted to murder me.” Dream froze at the word <em>‘exiled’</em>. Fundy didn’t quite hold <em>that</em> issue against him.</p><p>“I’m not going to apologize for that. He burnt George’s house to the ground, during a <em>ceasefire</em>.” He didn’t mean for it to come out as harshly as it had, but he couldn’t take it back the moment it escaped his lips. Fundy blinked, a startled look crossing his face before it quickly disappeared. Dream could only thank the deities that Fundy didn’t back away from him immediately. Dream swallowed down the need to defend himself. He had nothing to defend himself. He did what was right. “Do you hold that against me?”</p><p>“Dream…” Fundy pursed his lips together, wincing at how he could begin to answer the question. He’d never had the best relationship with Tommy, his uncle who was younger than he was. He couldn’t bring himself to admit the slight sliver of satisfaction he had felt when he heard Tubbo banish Tommy from New L’Manburg. He hated himself for feeling it, but he couldn’t help it. <em><strike>Not that it mattered since his father disappeared just as quickly as Tommy had</strike></em>. Of course. “We should move on to the next question.”</p><p>“Of course.” Dream quickly nodded, thinking back towards the list of question Fundy had asked him on the first date. He groaned, recognizing what the next question was. Well, it wasn’t exactly a question but a command. Fundy straightened up, realizing at the same time what the next question was. A question where Dream’s previous answer would differ from the answer he would be saying now. “Question 11. ‘Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.’”</p><p>Fundy shook his head, turning his nose up in slight disappointment. He hated these questions. “You know everything about me, Dream. I mean, you’ve had a front seat to the ‘Miserable Life of Fundy’ ever since the first war began.” His life beforehand was insignificant, a horrible jumble of memories of the times where Wilbur would carry him from place to place. Wilbur could never bring himself to stay in one area for too long. He probably shouldn’t have settled down because the one time he did, he ended up dying.</p><p>“I’d love to hear it again…” Dream internally flinched at his own reply, hoping that Fundy didn’t take that personally― He sputtered, a fluff of fur smacking him on the face. He blinked, realizing that Fundy just… slapped him with his tail. He felt Fundy quivering next to him, a low snicker rising from the fox hybrid. His face must look ridiculously funny right now. Dream scowled halfheartedly, trying not to laugh at his husband’s strange antic. <strike>Deities he missed this</strike>. “Wha... What was that for?”</p><p>“I could see you regretting your words in your eyes, Dream. Pfft…” Fundy shook his head, his sharp teeth showing underneath the grin he wore. “I don’t mind telling it again. I’ve added a new chapter, after all.”</p><p>“A new chapter?”</p><p>“These past few weeks have been hectic.” They both laughed at that understatement. Fundy breathed in. He could do this again. He could talk about his life again, couldn’t he?</p><p>“Where to begin… My earliest memory was a cold wintry day, my arms wrapped around my father’s neck as he scoured through a desolate land of ice and snow. My second memory was of a dark forest filled with all sorts of… aggressive creatures.” Fundy cleared his thoughts, wishing he didn’t have to remember those glowing purple eyes that hunted him and his father down relentlessly. “My father was a traveler and my mother ran off… at least that’s what my father told me… Well, actually he told me fucked a salmon…”</p><p>He could almost hear the snap in Dream’s neck as the blonde turned to look at him. <em><strike>Yeah, he may not have added that part in his first answer</strike></em>. “<em>ANYWAY</em>, um… My father and I eventually found our way here to the Essempy where my uncle, Tommy, lived. I then lived in a drug van for a while before the whole war began. Somehow, I managed to get my father’s approval to join the war… not that he ever gave me my own uniform. Then, that thing with Eret and the duel… where you shot Tommy for a bunch of flimsy discs.”</p><p>He gave Dream a pointed glare at that, a show of anger on behalf of his uncle. “Then… we met. Had our first date. We started seeing each other in secret. Then the elections came and we made that promise about how our politics would never get in the way of what we had. Yeah, that lasted for a while. Then my father got exiled and I had to play spy for… years? I’ve forgotten how long Schlatt was president for… All I know is, we got married at some point before the recent war. Then… Then… Then…”</p><p>He took another breath to calm himself. He could do this. <em><strike>He tried to ignore the way Dream looked at him, as if he would shatter at any moment</strike></em>. “Then… The explosion where I had to watch my home get destroyed before my very eyes. I also had to watch my own dad get killed by the grandfather I didn’t know I had.”</p><p>He felt Dream’s hand on his tail, petting it as if to soothe him.</p><p>“Then as if the deities wanted to mock me, my dad came back as an amnesiac ghost who refuses to take responsibility for anything he’s done.” Fundy rolled his eyes at that, resentment rising in his chest.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Fundy.”</p><p>Fundy shook his head, “We began construction on New L’Manburg, hoping that this time nothing goes wrong, but it seems L’manburg is cursed or some <em>shit</em> because guess what happened next?”</p><p>Dream gulped, knowing that this was where he came in for the recent time in the story of Fundy’s life. “Imagine my surprise when I woke up one morning, enjoying my walk towards New L’Manburg, only to see an obsidian wall surrounding the country.” Dream didn’t react as Fundy’s tail slapped him on the face again. “One meeting later, my husband declares to the entire land that he only ever cared about a child’s discs. Five days later, my uncle was exiled out of the country he had fought for. Then it all went to <em>shit</em>.”</p><p>Fundy had been heartbroken. It wasn’t a random decision he’d done one day. Ever since that declaration… “New L’Manburg continued on, but the only semblance of normalcy in my life began to wilt. My husband stopped coming home, stopped talking to me, stopped <em>looking</em> at me, and the one time I tried to talk to him… he said, ‘Not now, Fundy. Just trust me, okay?’ Ya, like that was supposed to be assuring. Like I didn’t spend my nights on our bed wondering if I’ll catch him coming back home at some point in the night.”</p><p>He took in a shaky breath, “The next time I confronted him, he got mad. Telling me that my fears were illogical, that he didn’t mean it literally when he said <em>‘that’s the only thing I care about’</em> when talking about the discs. He told me I was being crazy. That I should trust him. Then he left. Just like that. As if he expected me to still be in our cabin when he came back.” Fundy tried to keep the hurt out of his voice but he didn’t think he succeeded, “So before you accuse me of running away, know that you left me first.”</p><p>“Fundy…” Dream felt his throat constrict, unable to breathe at the overwhelming guilt he felt. He felt sick, knowing that despite the righteous anger Fundy felt, the fox hybrid didn’t try to move away. His tail was still in Dream’s arms. “I was wrong.”</p><p>“You were. You were wrong to leave me at the cabin like that. You were wrong to think I wouldn’t want a single hint that you actually cared for me.” Fundy sighed, too exhausted to move away from the man who had broken his heart too many times. “I just wanted one hint that you cared for me, Dream. I’ve seen you lie before. I’ve seen your hold on everyone here. I didn’t want to be another pawn in your game.”</p><p>“You were never a pawn in the game, Fundy.” Dream frowned… maybe before… maybe when he didn’t know the fox hybrid all that well. “You are not a pawn, Fundy. You’re your own man. I’m… sorry… I didn’t expect you to run away because of that.”</p><p>“I didn’t expect myself to run away either.” Fundy shook his head, eyes shutting close as he remembered the tears on his cheeks as he ran as far away as he could from the Essempy. At some point, he stopped at the Badlands, a thought entering his mind as he looked upon the desolate desert.</p><p>“I’m… also sorry for… threatening Ranboo into telling me where you were.” Dream felt the heat of Fundy’s glare at that admission. <em><strike>Though he can’t say he truly felt guilty for doing it</strike></em>. That action led him to Fundy, didn’t it? “I should probably start with my answer, huh?” Dream knew Fundy wanted to ask him about what he’d done to Ranboo, but he quickly interjected before the fox hybrid could inquire further.</p><p>“Well, I grew up an only kid to two loving yet distant parents. You know how my dad was, you worked for him after all. My mom wasn’t around so I spent a lot of time by myself. Ran away after a while. Got into a bit of trouble when I grew older. Met Sapnap and George that way when they thought they could try and hunt me done for some reward.” Dream nearly screamed as Fundy toppled onto him, both of them screeching as Fundy tried to go back to his previous position. “Fundy?!”</p><p>“You’re a wanted man?” Fundy blinked, an incredulous look on his face as he managed to clamber back to the way he was sitting before. He knew Dream was a war criminal on a rampage but he didn’t think he was actually wanted somewhere else. Dream wheezed at the question, nodding his head in actual confirmation. Fundy couldn’t help the small noise of surprise that emitted from the back of his throat. “I married a criminal!”</p><p>“I married a fox hybrid, Fundy. I’ve gotten furry jokes from George and Sapnap.” They both laughed at that. “I stayed with Sapnap and George after, then I died. We ended up moving to the Essempy and… you know what happened next… but I wouldn’t count any of that as my life. It doesn’t feel like my life.” Dream could feel Fundy’s stare at the back of his head. He patted Fundy’s tail, wishing his voice didn’t strain or crack the moment Fundy asked him to explain.</p><p>“What do you mean, Dream?” Fundy winced at how quiet his voice sounded, the small tremble at the end of his voice.</p><p>Dream smiled, a bittersweet smile that pulled at Fundy’s heartstrings no matter how much he wished it didn’t. Dream settled back into his seat, cuddling close to Fundy’s tail. He could do this. He needed to do this. For both their sakes.</p><p><em>“My life started when I went for jog and spotted you in the path…” </em>Dream found a smile climbing to his lips. It had been a sunny day, radiant golden light splashing the world with color. George and Sapnap were busy and he had chosen to head towards L’Manburg, a spring in his step as he ran down the path of Church Prime. His mind was abuzz with memories, pausing as he caught an orange blur clambering up the stairs. His first proper meeting with Fundy. <em>“…walking with a fox. So, I stopped and asked, ‘Can I pet your fox?’”</em></p><p>He didn’t understand what made him stop. Perhaps it was the comedic sight. A fox hybrid tugging a struggling fox behind him. Dream didn’t know why, but he stopped. It was the best choice he’d ever made. <em>“And so there we were, me and this adorable fox, basking in the abundance of sun our land provides. And suddenly, you blurted out ‘This isn't my fox, actually.’” </em>He watches as Fundy’s eyes crease with agony at the memory. At the memory of…,<em> “’It's my friend's fox, Fungi. I'm taking care of him while she's away.’”</em></p><p>Fundy had curled into his arms the day Fungi died, screaming incoherently until he fainted. Dream had yelled at Sapnap, his anger rising with every confused gesture Sapnap had shown him. <em>“’He's a bit of a nuisance, ya know?’ And I laughed, and you laughed.” </em>Fundy had tried to hide the red in his cheeks, flustered. Dream expected fear, he expected anger. He didn’t expect… Fundy… didn’t expect the joy in his eyes.<em> “Saying you didn't wanna be found out when you asked me to a date, that there was no fox.”</em></p><p>He shook his head at what came after, <em>“I said yes and you said, ‘I’m Fundy. And you?’”</em></p><p>It had been a joke. They both knew who the other was, having met countless times on the battlefield. Despite it, Dream had paused. A realization coming into mind at what could be, <em>“Yet I heard the perfect opportunity, to be someone else entirely.” </em>A chance to begin anew. A chance to try again. <em><strike>At least for one night</strike></em>. He didn’t see what he could possibly lose from saying yes, <em><strike>but he had everything to gain from that one simple word</strike></em>. <em>“Free from my history. For one single night of a date…”</em></p><p>It had been a foolproof plan at the time. A break from the war they had both gone through. <em>“I would be someone else. Obviously, that's not how it went down. One single date night turned into two days at your house, three more dates and staying up to watch the stars ‘til the morning comes. Too late to backpedal. Too good not to keep going.” </em>He never meant to fall in love… but he did. And he couldn’t let go. He loved what they had. <em>“It felt like my life, but a better version. With you in my life, I was a better person.”</em></p><p>He held onto Fundy’s tail. He missed them. He missed what they had. He felt his throat close up, choking out his words, <em>“I heard music in the words you were saying. Melodies with no band playing.” </em>He glanced up, catching the tears in Fundy’s eyes before Fundy turned to look away. It stung… but Dream knew why. It didn’t change the way he felt. It didn’t change the way he felt about Fundy. He wished Fundy could see that, could look at him,<em> “For the first time, I was in love, and I loved who I was with you.”</em></p><p>He remembered their short-lived days of peace. The trips they would take as they headed down into uncharted caves. The walks they’d take in the middle of the night when no one was looking. <em>“All the mundane shit I used to hate, like mining for iron and walking every day.” </em>He remembered the sweet life they used to live together,<em> “Making breakfast, paying tax, watering the plants on our window sill…”</em></p><p>Fundy brightened his monochrome world, <em>“…was invigorated with your sense of wonder. Pillow talk, midnight walks.” </em>He missed the secret little walks they took. The risk they took.<em> “Holding hands on the wooden path of the Church Prime. Dealing with inevitable misfortunes that were barely manageable.”</em></p><p>He laughed to himself, <em>“Like that time I accidentally hit your dad with my sword.”</em></p><p>The air turned cold, Fundy turning to look at him with an incredulous look. <em>“That was an unfortunate anecdote. Do you know what I mean?” </em>Dream winced, changing the topic before Fundy could yell at him again. <em>“It felt like my life, but a better version. With you in my life, I was a better person.”</em></p><p>He drew closer, reaching out to hold both Fundy’s hands. They were warm, red scorch marks stained his fingertips. <em>“I heard music in the words you were saying. Melodies with no band playing.” </em>He looked up, and this time Fundy didn’t look away. Their eyes gazed into one another’s. Fundy’s face was devoid of emotion, but a flicker of light danced within his eyes. Dream took a deep breath, willing Fundy to see the truth. His truth.<em> “For the first time I was in love, and I loved who I was with you.”</em></p><p>He had begged every deity for the conflict to be resolved immediately, then Schlatt made him a deal he couldn’t refuse. “But then the war started to grow worse because your L’Manburg has a bad curse.” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice. He couldn’t possibly show the horror he had felt when he realized they’d be on opposite sides. The sleepless nights he endured at the thought of his husband losing a life to a war that should never have happened. “We both changed our sides. You and me, different sides.”</p><p>He had forced himself to watch as his husband was ridiculed, unable to step in unless he wanted to set everyone off into thinking Fundy was the traitor. <em>“I only hoped we didn’t fight. Then the world exploded.” </em>He curled into himself, his hands shaking in Fundy’s hold as he remembered the heat of the explosion. Fundy’s eyes widened, a terrified look crossing his face. Dream nodded, confirming his fears. <em>“They say before you die, your whole life flashes before your very eyes.”</em></p><p>He wanted to keep it secret, <em>“Well, it didn't the first time. But this time I heard each and every lie.” </em>Everything changed that day.<em> “I'd ever told you. I tried to cling to the life I'd made together with you.”</em></p><p>He couldn’t let it end like that, <em>“So, I did the only thing I knew how to…”</em></p><p>He remembered the argument they had, <em>“…I denied everything, because I wanted to keep my life.” </em>He told Fundy he wasn’t the villain. But he was. <em><strike>He still is</strike></em>.<em> “But the better version. Your Dream, your husband.”</em></p><p>He sniffled quietly, a bitter smile on his lips. He missed the way he used to be, before everything went to hell. Before he let it all crumble down. <em>“He was a better person. I memorized your voice.” </em>They had fought the day Fundy left. Their usual morning routine disrupted by furious screaming. He struggled to keep from drowning in his own tears,<em> “And how you say goodbye, but you never said goodbye.”</em></p><p>He felt his hands move to grasp at Fundy’ collar, <em>“You never said goodbye.”</em></p><p>Fundy watched as Dream broke down a second time, <em>“And I held on to our life.”</em></p><p>Their faces were too close, <em>“And who I was with you.”</em></p><p>Fundy couldn’t help himself… <em>“Who I was with you.” </em>He leaned closer.</p><p>
  <em>“Who I was with you.”</em>
</p><p>Dream felt lips press onto his own.</p><p>And for just a moment.</p><p>He let himself fall.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Reality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I did it. And now I go to sleep. This is the final song for Act 2.</p><p>No thoughts for notes. Only sleep. Goodbye.</p><p>(Okay but like... Phone still works so I wrote chapter on phone because I want to maintain my schedule. So yeah...thanks for your understanding guys! And hopefully this chapter is ok since phone has me *shook*. I tried to channel my frustrations about my laptop into Fundy and Dream's interaction. So if you feel frustration, that would be me breaking up with my laptop.</p><p>Heart been broke so many times rip. Anyway, thanks guys for being nice and I will get back to the previous chapters once this story is done since I want to add a few other things. Anyway thank you for reading and hope you guys like this! Bye bye! To sleep I go.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They settled back to their respective positions, their barely touched dinners left on the table as they curled up on the chair Dream had sat on. A momentary silence hung over the air, though it wasn’t as awkward or as tense as one might expect. They were both exhausted, their heads leaning against each other as they cherished the moment they had together. It was a fragile peace, one they haven’t had in a long time. Both of them feared to break it, but one of them had to. The tranquility had to end at some point.</p><p>“This… is nice.” Fundy whispered, nuzzling his neck to the crook of Dream’s neck. He felt the blonde shift beside him, an arm wrapping around his form as Dream pulled him closer to his side. The pitter-patter of rain echoed from beyond the safety of their little cabin, a world away from what they had then and there. Batry squeaked, flapping their wings on the small perch they had settled on. Fundy missed the warmth of the home they shared. He missed the nights they used to spend together. “I miss this… I miss us.”</p><p>“I miss you.” Dream buried his face in Fundy’s hair, laughing as a twitchy ear slapped him against his cheek. Fundy’s hair smelt like sunlight, bits of sand still stuck on the soft red strands. Dream really didn’t understand why Fundy would choose the desert of all places. He always thought that if Fundy ran away, he’d run towards the taiga lands. <em><strike>He had actually checked there first and almost got mauled by wolves.</strike></em> He hummed beneath his breath, content to hold his husband like this for the rest of the night.<strike></strike></p><p>Fundy sighed softly, knowing he would have to break the peace. “We should go back to the questions, huh?” He felt Dream tremble beside him.</p><p>“… If that’s what you want.”</p><p>“Isn’t that what we both want?” Fundy glanced up, nearly hitting his head on Dream’s jaw. He laughed softly, “You hunted me down to Dry Waters for that sole reason, didn’t you?”</p><p>“I didn’t hunt you down, Fundy.” Dream scoffed into his husband’s hair, pressing closer as if doing so would make him forget the situation they were both in. He felt a hand swat his shoulder, a playful gesture that Dream hoped didn’t harbor any resentment. He leaned towards Fundy, hoping that the fox hybrid wouldn’t pull away as soon as they resumed the questions. He liked the moment they were sharing. <em><strike>He didn’t want to let go.</strike></em> “I went to look for you… And it’s your turn to ask the next question.”</p><p>“Right.” Fundy’s gaze flickered over to the ceiling of the cabin. He recalled the hour before his first date with Dream, his mind had been a flurry of worry as he thought of how he could possibly make it a night to remember. As he paced the restaurant floor, a series of questions flew into his mind. The questions his father had asked his mother… at least that’s Wilbur said. <em><strike>Wilbur loved to change the narrative.</strike></em> “Question 12. ‘If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?’”</p><p>“It’s pretty hard to top admin magic.” Dream murmured beneath his breath, Fundy humming as if in confirmation. Dream wracked through his brain, wondering what he could possibly answer. He glanced around the room, at Fundy… the love of his life. “Maybe… if I could gain one quality, it would be … actually being normal for once.”</p><p>“Well, if I could have one ability, I would like invisibility.” Fundy felt Dream’s chest move, a wheeze echoing through the room. “What? It’ll be so much easier to scam and rob people that way. I wouldn’t have to worry about getting caught, ya know?”</p><p>"Of course you would pick invisibility. Why am I surprised?" Dream remembered the time he had given Fundy a taste of admin magic. The fox hybrid spent his entire day doing nothing but pranks to anyone who unfortunately got into the crossfire. He would have let him keep a bit of magic if it didn't mean chaos. "Question 13. 'If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?'"</p><p>"I'd definitely want to know why my family is the way it is. Like, you've seen how fucked it is right? I have a grandpa who's the 'Angel of Death' or some shit that I don't know about. I have an uncle who probably wants to murder me for being an orphan and another uncle who my ex-husband exiled to fuck knows where." Fundy rolled his eyes as he listed every member he could think of. He wasn't even going to mention the fridge – his supposed grandmother, according to his father. Speaking of, "Then I have a dad who's now a ghost and was probably a fish-fucker. Yeah! I want to know which deity cursed this fucked-up family tree. I love them, Dream you know that. But... I... I don't understand it. I don't how any of that works."</p><p>Dream blinked, his mouth agape in surprise as he stared down at the fox hybrid. He'd never... Fish? Wilbur fucked a— "WHAT?!" Dream couldn't bring himself to even think about it. He pulled Fundy closer to his chest, hoping that he wouldn't wheeze himself to death as he thought about what type of family he was marrying himself into. He's heard about Phil and met his sons, but he didn't know any of them asides from Tommy and Wilbur. He let out a soft sigh, glad that Fundy had chosen to keep their wedding small... By not inviting his family because he didn't want to get murdered at the alter. "You know what, star? I'd have to say that as my answer because what the fuck was all of that?"</p><p>"I know, right?" Fundy chuckled, his breath ghosting against the skin on Dream's neck, the blonde shivering at the heat. Fundy couldn't begin to imagine how he'd ever introduce– He curled closer, pressing his face to Dream's neck that Dream nearly jumped. There won't be an introduction. How could he have forgotten? He felt his lips crease into a frown, his hands reaching out to hold onto Dream's waist. An embrace that the blonde melted into. Fundy wished they could stay like that. Fundy moved on, "Question 14. 'Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?'"</p><p>"I want to spend one day of peace with you. No obligations. No responsibilities. No wars springing up out of the blue. Just you and me. In this cabin." He would do anything to have that. Dream only ever wanted peace in the Essempy, and he was close to having that. He needed to stick to his plan. He was doing it for everyone, this is what everyone needed. He wasn't doing this just for him and Fundy. It was for everyone. He just needed more time. He'll give everyone the peace and quiet they deserved. He smiled, pressing a chaste kiss on top of Fundy's head. The fox hybrid's tail began to wag. "With everything that's been going on, we never had the chance to do that. Someday, we'll be able to."</p><p>"I'd... Love that." Fundy winced at how bitter his voice came out, Dream's relaxed hands reached out to pull him further into the embrace, spooked at the tone in Fundy's voice. If Fundy didn't know any better he'd think the blonde was scared he'd run off. He wouldn't do that. They weren't done with the questions and Fundy wanted to finish what they'd begun. "If there's one thing I wished I could've done... That would be fishing with everyone I loved... Which isn't a long list of people but it would be perfect. You and my dad would get along, Tubbo and Tommy would probably end up drowning while Techno and Phil have their whispered conversations."</p><p>"Idyllic. Peaceful. Maybe one day we could all go fishing." Dream looked down into Fundy's beautiful brown eyes, a flicker of light dancing across the irises. There's a questioning look in them, a confusion that Dream couldn't solve quite yet. He reached up, ruffling Fundy's hair a bit. They'll cross that bridge when they get to it. Dream cleared his throat, smiling as he thought about the next few questions. They weren't as difficult. Easy. "Question 15. 'What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?'"</p><p>"I've created beings and worlds into existence. I don't think anything could ever top my level of expertise when it comes to creating and designing." As if to make a point, Fundy gestured to the cabin, raising a brow as if daring Dream to argue. They'd both seen the houses Dream makes, and Fundy insisted he built mostly everything in the cabin after seeing... Dream's creative side. Fundy wouldn't even let him into the cabin until it was done. "Can't beat me on that, babe." </p><p>"My greatest accomplishment would be gaining admin powers." Dream looked down at his hands, his mind a haze of what he'd actually done to get his powers. George and Sapnap had refused to tell him, telling him it was better that he never knew. He couldn't help but feel worried. What did he do to get such magic? He shook the thought away. It wasn't important. This moment was important. Not that. He could worry about that later. "I don't remember how I got them and I swear to you Fundy, I'm not lying about that. I swear it! You have to believe me on that, I really don't remember how but I might have done something right."</p><p>"I get it, Dream. You don't have to explain that." Fundy sighed, knowing that would probably be one of many mysteries that even Dream himself couldn't answer. At least both of them were in the dark about it instead of it being Fundy... By himself. Alone in the dark. Dream might never find the answer to how he got his magic and... Fundy would accept that. "Question 16. 'What do you value most in a friendship?'"</p><p><strong>"Loyalty."</strong> They both paused, bursting into wheezes and laughs. It was one of the many answers that didn't change. It was the same answer as the one they'd said on their first date. That didn't change at least... Except, this time Dream was alone and Fundy had more friends than he used to have. Funny how change works like that.</p><p>"Glad to see we both agree on that." Dream struggled to keep his wheezes in, hiding the pain he felt as he uttered that one word that shouldn't have meant so much to him. "Question 17. 'What is your most treasured memory?'"</p><p>"My mom." Fundy's tone was soft, a muffled whisper that almost sounded as if it was but a trickery of the wind. Fundy felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Wilbur didn't know but Fundy vaguely remembered what his mother looked like: the soft curls of red hair reaching down to her waist, a gentle voice that soothed his cries, a pair of kind brown eyes that looked at him as if he was a precious treasure to protect. He remembered so little and yet so much. "I remember a little bit of how she looked like. Wilbur refuses to tell me where she is or if she ran off or if she— I don't know. But I know she loved me."</p><p>"I would've loved to meet her, she sounds lovely." Dream caressed Fundy's hair, a gesture of comfort. He knew how badly Fundy wanted his mother to still be alive somewhere in the world. <strike><em>But Dream was still confused, was his mother-in-law a human or a fish?</em></strike> "My most cherished memory would have to be our wedding. If I close my eyes I could still remember the ceremony. My dress. Your suit." <strike><em>He doesn't tell Fundy of the nightmares that took over his mind the moment he ran away. The morphed images of a ruined wedding haunting the back of his mind as he so desperately clinged to the life he and Fundy had made together.</em></strike></p><p>"The wedding was fantastic. I wished it was bigger but we couldn't risk my dad." Fundy shook his head, wishing he wouldn't have had to worry about that. "Question 18. What is your most terrible memory?'"</p><p>"Dying the first time was pretty terrible." They both shuddered at that, both having had the displeasure of facing Death and emerging back to life. It was an awful sensation, to feel your senses fall numb as the world around you fell into dust. It would be an endless void after, a cacophony of noise that screamed into your very being until you suddenly wake up in the bed you'd slept in the day before you'd died. </p><p>"Mine would have to be the entire Schlatt Administration. Those were the worst years of my life." Fundy stuck out his tongue, disgusted at the memories of what he had done just to survive in Manburg... Feeling guilty about the sword that was in his inventory.</p><p>"Schlatt... Was the worst." They both left it at that, the air tensing at the mere mention of that name. "Question 19. 'If you knew that in one year you would lose all your three lives - or remaining lives - would you change the way you are living now. Why?'"</p><p>"I suppose I'd try and get closer to my remaining relatives, it would be difficult seeing as how estranged we are." Fundy let out a tired sigh, "I don't eve know how I'd be able to explain you to them without getting both of us killed on the spot."</p><p>"So there'd be a need to explain us?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You'd have to explain to your family why we're married?" Dream glanced down, Fundy struggling against his hold all of a sudden. He let go. "So, we... You and I, we can work this out? We have a chance to work this out?"</p><p>"... That isn't the question, Dream." Fundy got up from the chair, backing off into the hall. He heard footsteps follow after him. "You don't have to follow—"</p><p>"It's the only question! This is exactly why we're here in the first place!"</p><p>"We have 36 Questions left to answer, Dream!" Fundy wanted to tear his hair out. Why the fuck did he accidentally say that? They were getting through everything just fine but of course Fundy found a way to fuck it up. Of course he did.</p><p>"Well most of these you already know my answer for!"</p><p>"No, I don't Dream! I don't know anything about you anymore!" Fundy began to storm off, pulling the door open as a blast of cool wind entered the room. "Just give me a minute, I need to calm down."</p><p>"I just don't know when you'll finally forgive me for this, Funds!" Dream groaned into his hands. He wanted this to be over. He managed to get Fundy home and now he was trying to run away again. "You're leaving again, aren't you?"</p><p>"Wha—?!" Fundy looked at him, the rain splattering against his hair as he took a step outside. Dream followed him out, both of them immediately soaked in rainwater. "I'm not running away, I just need a moment to collect my thoughts!"</p><p>"What is there to even think about? Will you ever forgive me or not, Fundy?"</p><p>"NO!"</p><p>They both froze, the word hanging in the air.</p><p>Fundy breathed, trying to keep himself calm. "No, Dream. I... I can't forgive you. Not after everything. Do you really think I could ever trust you again? Did you actually think we had a shot here? Dream, we can't—"</p><p>"You kissed me."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You kissed me." Dream couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice. "You kissed me and now you say we never had a chance."</p><p>"Dream—"</p><p>"We have a chance here, Fundy. Just give me one last—"</p><p>"Dream. We can't. I can't." Fundy rummaged through his inventory, taking out the trident he had brought along with him. Dream looked at it, surprise in his forest green eyes. "I wasn't supposed to give you a chance, Dream."</p><p>"Fundy—"</p><p>"I'm leaving. Batry can stay until the morning. I'll come back to get him."</p><p>"Fundy—"</p><p>"Enough, Dream!" Fundy shivered underneath the cool rain. "That's enough."</p><p>"We could have our old lives back, Fundy. Don't you want that?"</p><p>Fundy turned away, a pained smile on his face.</p><p><em>"I have to leave you behind. I know that sounds harsh…”</em> He felt the trickle of rain at the back of his neck, the salty taste of tear clinging to his lips. The trident in his hands felt heavy, beads of water tracing the edges of his fingertips. Fundy closed his face, felt the harsh wind caressing his cheek as Dream's pleas rang throughout the desolate night. His heart ached, a semblance of nostalgia begging him to return to the want embrace of the man he once loved. He wanted to return to the warmth of their home, the light casting shadows down onto the cobblestone stairway. <em>“…but that's the reality. I wish we had our old life.”</em></p><p>A searing pain tore through his insides, a burning want that he needed to quell if he wanted to escape the fire unscathed. <em>"But that shit's impossible. That's just reality."</em> He bit back the sobs that threatened to rise from his throat, tremors running down his spine. He spared a glance at the blonde, a whimper slipping past his lips as those forest green eyes he'd love so much begged him to stay. <em>"I should have told you the minute you came, but you sounded distraught standing out in the rain."</em></p><p>He knew what he had done, presented a silver lining of hope in a whirlwind that would end in demise. He forced himself back, further into the consuming darkness of the night. <em>"And I wanted to let you in, swallow your pain, because that's what I always do."</em> They both needed the closure... But why did it hurt him to leave? To tear himself away from a life he promised himself was dead? He gripped at his chest, knowing he had lied to both of them. <em>"But I made a pact with my friends, under no circumstance..."</em></p><p>He heard the hitch in Dream's breath, the realization of what Fundy had done casted into the unforgiving air. <em>"...should I ever hear out Dream. Unlike you I keep my word."</em> He knew how the story ended, knew it the moment he'd open the door. He felt the shadows cling to his form, beckoning him to make his escape. They were done here. He should go. But he can't. Not like this. He stepped closer despite himself<em>.  "And promises I make become my reality. You like to live your life blurring the lines."</em></p><p>Dream did what he wanted, without the thought of what others needed. It was a bitter truth that needed to said, <em>"Bending the rules to make yourself look better. But all that I wanted was something concrete."</em> Al he had wanted was a life with the man he had fallen in love with. He reached up a hand, the tear-stained cheek cold against his hold. Dream clung to his wrist, a desparation in his eyes that Fundy knew would haunt him until his final moments. <em>"And to know for a fact you are real. What I know is..."</em></p><p>He felt a sorrowful and bittersweet smile form on his lips, agony tearing at his heart, <em>"I still love you!"</em></p><p>Tears rolled down Dream's cheek, his mouth open in silent protest. He couldn't say anything. <em>"That's my reality."</em></p><p>He felt their bodies press close together, their shared heat against the storm made his mind muddled and hazy, <em>"You know..."</em></p><p>He leaned his face closer, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. They shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be doing this. But he wanted to<em>. "I'd give anything to wake up with you next to me. You and I spent these years of our lives lost in your lies."</em> He could feel the ghost of the other's breath, their lips a few inches apart. Dream pulled him closer, and for a moment Fundy let him. <em>"Far from reality. And it felt like a dream..."</em> Their lips met, a long and desperate kiss mixed with the taste of salt, lime, and orange.</p><p>He pulled away, <em>"'Cause it was"</em></p><p>He felt those shaking and slender fingers try to pull him back, but he was leaving the embrace. The cold stinging the sides of his arms as he finally let go. <em>"Why do I always give in? That is on me to change."</em> He turned around. It was done. They were done. There were hands clinging onto the back of his shirt, not pulling, but there. He knew what Dream wanted to do, pull him into an unescapable embrace until his resolve melts away. He took a shaky step forward, his foot nearly slipping at the cobblestone stairs that led away from their home. He can’t turn around. Not if he wanted to leave. <em>"That's my reality. I can't do this to myself again."</em></p><p>They needed to move on. <em><strike>No matter how much it stung</strike></em>. <em>"I deserve someone who accepts reality."</em></p><p>He felt the cold chill of the rain mix in with his tears, the world engulfed in a monochrome hue without the presence of the celestial lights. What a fitting way to end. Fundy took another hesitant step, raising the trident in his hand. <em>"I can't imagine rebuilding my life with you, constantly on the edge of what I know is true." </em>He could feel Dream’s hold on his back. If he didn’t leave now, he never would. Why did Dream have to make it so difficult? All they needed to do was let go. It was <strong><em>time</em></strong> to let go.<em> "And you would string me along like you always do..."</em></p><p>Fundy laughed, a bitter cry of anguish. He wished he could scream and let the whole world know what they had lost. <em><strike>What’s done is done. It’s over.</strike></em> <em>"Knowing I will never let go."</em></p><p>He turned to pry Dream’s fingers off him, a hollow stare in the blonde’s eyes as their gazes met.</p><p>“Fundy…” Dream tried to reach for him again. Fundy shook his head, a goodbye. He raised the trident.</p><p>And with a flick of his wrist, he was gone. “FUNDY!”</p><p>
  <em>‘I’m sorry.’</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Answer 36</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello guys! I hope you like this chapter and I'm sorry if it sucks since I was trying to copy the way the musical podcast just had Judith by her lonesome. Please note that I am diverging from the story in the podcast as can be evident in the usage of the song... since I just really believe that the line 'I deserve to let you go and build a better version on my own' is such a good Fundy line? So I apologize for diverging from the story :(</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you guys like this! I'm sorry if it sucks ;-;</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fundy's loud footsteps echoed throughout the tranquil scene of the morning, dark circles beneath his eyes as he forced himself down a series of forks and turns. It was a beautiful spring day, the sun spreading its golden rays upon a "peace-blessed" hand. He twitched, kicking a small pebble out of his way as he begrudgingly trudged towards the cabin that he and Dream had built a long time ago. If he had any other choice last night, he would have taken Batry with him so he wouldn't have a reason to return and confront Dream. <strike><em>But he couldn't risk Batry's safety, seeing as how Fundy himself was beginning to feel the itch of a coughing spell in the back of his throat</em></strike>. So here he was once more, glancing up towards the ethereal cabin that stood on top of a hill dotted with flowers. Dream had chosen the spot while Fundy designed the house. It hurt to look at, it really did.</p>
<p>He exhaled, he could do this. He took one a step forward, pausing as he noticed the dark crimson that stained the cobblestone stairs. His heart pounded in his chest at the sight, bewildered by what was he saw. Despite himself - despite the fury he had felt just a moment ago - he found himself racing up towards the cabin, his feet pounding against the stone as he reached large oaken door. The door was closed, not a trace of a fight or conflict to be seen. Fundy couldn't help the worry that he felt. Nobody knew this place existed. Dream had made sure no one would ever find their little cabin, tucked away in some corner of the Essempy away from the prying and taunting eyes of the other residents of the land. He breathed evenly, trying to keep himself from smashing the door open. Maybe the crimson was paint... Or maybe Dream, in a rage, killed something the moment he left last night. He steeled himself, raising his hand to knock at the door, hoping that Dream didn't murder him the moment the door opened. He'd rather keep his two remaining lives, thank you very much.</p>
<p>All it took was one knock before a resounding thud echoed back from within the cabin. Fundy flinched away from the door, trembling at what laid beyond it. He waited a moment with held breath, but nothing came bounding out towards him. He leaned his head against the door, straining to hear a semblance of life beyond the wooden barrier. "Dream?"</p>
<p>"Did you come here to yell at me more or did you forget something?" Fundy winced at the malice in those words, backing off from the door in the case that Dream loses it at some point and decides to kill Fundy for his <em>'supposed'</em> betrayal. Of course, it was Dream's fault but he doubted Dream saw himself in the wrong here. He rubbed at the back of his arm, gritting his teeth as he thought of which approach he needed to take here. He wonders if it would be better if he just snuck into the cabin... not that he could as Dream had secured their entire house, insisting that Dream needed Fundy to be safe within their own home. "I thought you didn't want to see me?"</p>
<p>"Dream..." Fundy's eyes narrowed as he looked towards the wilted flowers on their windowsills. He remembered running his fingers down their soft petals, early morning dew tickling his fingertips. He reaches out for them now, those once lovely petals crumbling beneath his gentle caress. A sign of the times, a sign of newer pastures that needed to be taken. Fundy heard Dream shuffle from behind the door, a loud cough breaking him from his wistful reverie. Fundy tried to channel his exhaustion, hoping that Dream would take pity on him for one moment and just give him what he came there for. His voice felt soft against his tongue, a hesitation in his tone that he wished wasn't so obvious. Dream lived off fear, and he didn't doubt for one moment that Dream would gain some sort of sick satisfaction from the tremor in Fundy's voice. "Dream... I'm here to pick up Batry. You know... my pet bat?"</p>
<p>There's an eerie silence from within the cabin, as if Dream had just collapsed and fell into a deep void. He jumps back as he hears loud and harrowing stomps reverberate from within, followed after by tell-tale noise of wood cracking beneath the weight of Dream's wrath. He lets out a horrified gasp as he sees the window in the living room open, a pale and battered hand reaching out to slam the window open. The glass nearly cracked at the impact as it slammed onto the wall. A moment later, Batry flew out into the crisp morning air, squeaking angrily at the sun before settling onto Fundy's shoulder. The window closed once more, that pale and bruised hand disappeared into the darkness beyond. Fundy stood there, unblinking and startled. Batry squeaked into his ear, urging him to go back home.</p>
<p>"Dream... are you okay?" Fundy knelt down in front of the door, a hand reaching out towards the brass handle. The door was locked. He let out a soft groan at Dream's dramatics, not understanding why he continued to stay. Batry was squeaking angrily at him, why was he still there? Why was he leaning against the door, his heart beating in his chest as he struggled to hear a single hint of Dream's wellbeing. He didn't like the purpled splotches on Dream's arm, the newly opened wounds that looked as if they were recent. His tail curled around his waist, his back pressed against the door's wooden frame. Images of that pale arm haunting him even as his eyes closed shut. "Dream... if you can hear me... Please. Just tell me what's wrong. At least, let me tend to your wounds! Do you want them to get infected?"</p>
<p>He felt the door behind him slowly creak open. Fundy barely had the chance to look inside before the door closed once more, Dream having left enough space for him to... Fundy blinked in disbelief, a familiar pair of painted black eyes stared up at him from the ground. Dream's mask. Dream had... Fundy took in another breath, willing himself to calm down at what Dream was trying to accomplish there. He felt his fingers reach down to pick up the mask, his eyes scouring the dried blood stains on the porcelain edges. He held the item closer to his chest, tracing that crudely painted smile with his finger. His heart ached to kick down the door, to check the damage that Dream had sustained. He didn't know what happened, all he knew was that Dream needed help. "Dream! Please... I don't want to leave you like this!"</p>
<p>"WELL YOU DIDN'T HAVE ANY PROBLEM LEAVING ME LAST NIGHT!"</p>
<p>"DREAM WOULD YOU JUST LET ME FUCKING HELP YOU!" Fundy punched at the door, his hand aching at the gesture. His eyes screwed shut, regretting his action immediately. "JUST... stop hiding from me! Just let me help you!"</p>
<p>"Why does it matter if you help me or not? You clearly don't give a fuck about me!"</p>
<p>"I━ FOR THE LOVE OF━ DREAM!" Fundy smacked the back of his head against the door, groaning as he pressed Dream's mask against his face. "Dream... at least, take your mask back. I don't understand why you're━"</p>
<p>"When you left..." Dream's anger was gone as quickly as it had appeared, his voice empty of emotion. It pulled at Fundy's heartstrings. "I realized what you wanted... You wanted the truth... And... I'll tell you the truth, Fundy. You don't have to respond."</p>
<p>There's a long silence from within the cabin, Fundy almost expected the thud to come after, wondering if Dream had fainted from his injuries on the other side of the door. "Question 19. 'If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why? '" He heard the muffled sniffle from beyond the door, the harsh breathing that followed soon after. "If I knew I would die in one year, I wouldn't have done anything after the final war. I would've spent my days with you, curled up in our bed... telling jokes and fun schemes we planned for the day. I would hold you close, remembering what it feels like to be in your warm embrace... I would never leave your side. I would have forgotten everything. New L'manburg... Essempy... they wouldn't have mattered."</p>
<p>Dream banged the back of his head on the door, wracking his brain for the next question. He wouldn't give Fundy the chance to answer, Fundy clearly didn't want to answer the questions. Dream was so stupid to think he ever had the chance to rekindle whatever relationship they had. He shouldn't have given himself hope. <strike><em>Fundy shouldn't have given him hope.</em></strike> "Question 20. 'What does friendship mean to you?'" Dream's bottom lip quivered at the question, a faint vision of goggles and a white bandana flashing across his mind. "Friendship means late-night talks, pranks, jokes, a bit of joke-flirting here and there... Friendship means... friendship means... a blue shirt and weird goggles. Friendship means... friendship means... a white shirt and a white bandana flapping in the wind."</p>
<p>Dream nodded to himself, feeling every emotion he had seep from his chest. He missed them. George and Sapnap. He'd pushed them away too, didn't he? He pushed everyone he loved away. He was alone. He was alone. Is this what Tommy felt? No. Tommy had people who cared for him, people who would accept him with loving arms the moment he returned from exile. "Question 21. 'What roles do love and affection play in your life?'" He nearly cried at the question. "I've never known love... asides from the love I have for George and Sapnap. You... you opened up my heart, Fundy. You showed me a type of love I never thought I could ever feel. You showered me in affection... and I always felt as if I never managed to reciprocate that. Now I know I didn't. Why else would you leave me, right? You wouldn't have left me if I had just... just..."</p>
<p>His voice trailed off, turning into a deep whisper as he remembered the next question. He wonders if Fundy was still there, or if he was talking to the empty expanse of the void. He shook his head, it didn't matter if Fundy had left. He needed to get his answers out, even if no one hears him. Even if no one hears the answers of a broken man. "Question 22. 'Alternate, share something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.'" An uneasy smile found its way to his lips. "I love that you always have this sparkle in your eyes everytime you do something mischievous. I love that you're so loving. I love the way you laugh, infection and sweet. I love that you care so much for everything despite always saying you wished you didn't care. I love... I love that you're so affectionate, even if you don't always show it sometimes... I love everything about you, Fundy. I do. I really do." </p>
<p>His hands began to tremble, aching with a phantom pain he thought he'd left behind the night before. It wouldn't take long until his aching and wounded body healed up, the beauty of having a admin magic was his body's ability to heal itself at a rapid pace. "Question 23. 'How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?'" He let out a sorrowful scoff, shaking his head. He forgot how stupid these questions were... how much he actually hated them when Fundy had insisted they answer them the first time. "Gods, you know what my answer is, Fundy! No. No, it was not. It's something I suppose you and I have in common. Another thing to add to the small list of why we're so perfect for each other..." His voice was dry, sarcasm dripping with every word that left his lips. He couldn't help the way he felt... couldn't help the searing anger in his chest.</p>
<p>"Question 24. 'How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?'" Dream ran a hand through his hair, gripping at the mud-stained strands in frustration. The list of questions had been easier and simpler to answer the first time. It was easy when all he had to say was, <em>'I have no parents, Fundy.'</em> But Fundy wanted the truth, and Dream was tired of lying. Tired of running from who he was. This was his chance to finally let out the words he could never say to anyone else. His mask was gone. All that was left was the man behind it. "My relationship with my mother isn't as close as I want it to be, I wish I knew her... I wish she knew me. I wish many things... but I'll never see her again... I know. I hate her... but I still love her. She's my mother... I have to love her." He let out a muffled wail, pressing his face into the crook of his possibly broken elbow.</p>
<p>"Question 25. 'Make three true we statements each. For instance, we are both in this room feeling...'" They weren't even in the same room. Dream was locked inside the desolate cabin that he and ex-husband once shared, and Fundy was in the garden or maybe he was far away by now. Dream didn't know! He didn't know. What the hell was he supposed to answer here? He patted at the wooden floor, a sticky mess of dried mud clinging to his fingers as he raised them away from the ground. Fundy had left him a mess... and now there cabin was a mess. <em>Fuck</em>. He couldn't take this. He couldn't do this. "Uh... I don't know? We are both feeling like shit. We are both feeling like we haven't slept in a year. We are both feeling... we are both feeling the pain I inflicted on both of us."</p>
<p>He was exhausted...</p>
<p>"Question 26. 'Complete this sentence: I wish I had someone with whom I could share...'“</p>
<p>...and so was Fundy.</p>
<p>"I wish I had someone with whom I could share every terrible thing in my life. I did have someone... some people... but I pushed them all away. I pushed you away. I always do."</p>
<p>He needed sleep... </p>
<p>"Question 27. 'If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.'"</p>
<p>...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p>"That I still loved him... that I wish I had told him everything the first time I had the chance. That I hadn't life to keep up a life that I built on lies. That I'm nothing but a liar who would do anything to hold onto what I wanted to keep. That I'm sorry. I'm sorry... I'm sorry, Fundy..."</p>
<p>He wanted their old life...</p>
<p>"Question 28. 'Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met.'"</p>
<p>...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p>"I love everything about you, Fundy. I love your smile. I love the way you curl up in bed next to me. I love the way that you always strive to be the best even when everyone around you belittles and mocks you. I love how you always find a way to brighten up my day. I love the life we shared together. I love our first date. I love Treasure Planet, and I love how much you cared to spend your time doing something for me."</p>
<p>He missed them...</p>
<p>"Question 29. 'Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.'"</p>
<p>...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p>"I once drank a potion that turned me into a small blob creature. George and Sapnap had to watch over me for an entire week. I couldn't do anything but screech at them."</p>
<p>Fundy had risen from the ground, his head pressed against the door as he listened to every word that came from within the cabin. His heart burned in his chest, his hands pressed against the wooden surface of the door. He felt sorry... but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt. He loved Dream... he still does... but what they had... They wanted each other... but they didn't need each other, not anymore. Not if they wanted to change. "Question 30. 'When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?'" Fundy pressed his lips together, knowing the answer. He also knew that if asked, he would have responded with the same thing. It was horrible. It was terrible. "The last time I cried in front of someone was last night... with you. By myself? Now."</p>
<p>Fundy closed his eyes, biting back the whine in the back of his throat. He needed to hear this. He needed to hear if anything's changed... This was penance for the years Dream wasted, their lives a horrible amalgamation of their want for one another. Dream wanted someone who gave him the sense of normalcy, and Fundy wanted someone who loved him as much as he did them. "Question 31. 'Tell your partner something that you like about them already.'" He heard the low laugh from beyond the door, the hollowness in a wheeze he once thought endearing. "I love... everything about you, Fundy. I don't think that's ever going to change. No matter what happens, no matter what I do in the next few days. I love you... I really do. You don't have to say it back, if you're still there..."</p>
<p>Dream wished he never lied...</p>
<p>"Question 32. 'What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?'"</p>
<p>...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p>"Death. My answer hasn't changed, not one bit. I never found death to be funny... I've tasted death and no man should ever have to do so... Death isn't funny..."</p>
<p>Dream wished he didn't leave the night they fought...</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">"Question 33. 'If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?'"</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">"In the case you aren't there... I regret never having told you and everyone else that I love all of you. I love you. I love everyone... I just wanted all of us to be one big happy family... I still want us to be a family. I haven't told anyone, because no one cares for me anymore, who would care to listen to me?"</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">Dream wished he'd met Fundy on better circumstances...</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">"Question 34. 'Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?'"</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">"If our house were to be engulfed in fire and I had one last chance to save anything... I would go back to get my netherite axe. I wouldn't let that burn down with our house, not if I can help it. It's been with me for a long time, I wouldn't want to lose it in a fire."</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">Dream wished they didn't have toe end it like this...</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">"Question 35. 'Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?'"</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">...and so did Fundy.</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">"My mom. My dad's dead, I'm already done grieving a man who never tried to search for his son."</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">Fundy heard the final sigh... it was the final question... the final answer... it was time for their final goodbye. "Question 36. 'Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.'" Fundy heard the creak of the floor, the sob that wracked through the blonde's body. Fundy knew he couldn't do anything. He couldn't bring himself to do anything. "If you found out your husband was lying to you for years and said he didn't care about anything... what would you do? And is there any way they could ever fall in love again? Or is what they had gone forever... ruined by a man who didn't know what he'd lose?"</p>
<p class="css-axufdj evys1bk0">Fundy bowed his head... he couldn't answer that. He couldn't. He had to go...</p>
<p><em>"No one wants to let go. You've gotta fight against your every instinct.” </em> His head was pressed against the oaken door, his eyes closed as he found the words he never thought he could say again. He doesn't hear a single trace of life within the cabin, the flutter of bird wings echoing through the still morning air. He quivers as a pale beam of sunlight illuminates his forlorn form, an ache in his chest as he bathes in the unwelcome warmth. Batry squeaks on his shoulder, his little head nuzzling onto his cheek but Fundy barely feels it. He doesn't understand why it was so difficult for him to leave, he did the first two times, why not now? A part of him urges him to claw the door, to beg Dream to open it once more. He holds himself back, nails digging into the palms of his hand. For both of their sakes, he can't do that. They can't do that. <em> “And that's hard to do.”</em></p>
<p>Dream's back was pressed against the door, his hus━ ex-husband's voice filtering through the door. He pulls his legs closer into his chest, refusing Fundy entry into the home that they had shared. He holds his head in hands, listening to Fundy's words as if to sketch them into memory. “<em> No one wants to quit. No one wants to admit to themselves…” </em>  He wanted to open the door. He wanted to fling it open and pull the fox hybrid back into his arms and never let go. He knew he couldn't do that. For both their sakes, he couldn't bring himself to do that. Fundy needed to forgive him if they ever wanted to resume their old life, but Fundy would never forgive hi. He made that very clear. He feels the coldness on his cheek, keeping his voice steady as he forced himself to stay where he was. He can't open the door. He mustn't open the door. He hits the back of his head on the door. “...what's <em> actually true. Only you can be the one to make the first move.” </em></p>
<p>Dream ran a hand through his disheveled and unkempt hair, his face visible for no one to see. His forest green eyes were murky with unshed tears, his knees bruised with splotches of purple and red. When Fundy had left the night before, he had tried to run after him, nearly killing himself on the stairs. He had stopped then, his face pressed into the mud as rain poured down on his pitiful form. He couldn't chase Fundy. He couldn't bring himself to get up after. It was a sign, from the deities or whatever being looked after him. He couldn't take back what he'd thrown away. He couldn't fix the pieces of their life after shattering it. He could... but only if Fundy left him. Because in the end, it was Fundy's choice. It would always be Fundy's choice. <em> "Push through the pain. Only you can be the one to say ‘I'm done’ and walk away.” </em></p>
<p><em> “It's gonna hurt but it's what I have to do.”  </em> Fundy smiled despite the desolate feeling in his chest, his ears picking up the small murmurs from beyond the door. He didn't know if Dream knew he could hear him, didn't know if Dream felt the same way he did. <em> They were done... but it hurts... knowing that all it takes to change their fate was for one of them to open the door </em> . Fundy couldn't open the door. He couldn't let himself fall back into a routine he knew was riddled with lies and false promises. He took a step back, his breath catching in his throat as he turned his back towards the home that they had shared. He looked down at his unsteady feet, willing them to move. Willing them to bring him away from the pain. He soaked up the heat of the sunlight, small puddles in the front garden spending small speckles of light across the grass. It was time to go. “I'm <em> leaving now. I'm putting one foot in front of the other now.” </em></p>
<p>He nearly slipped off the edge at the first step, his whole body shaking as his resolve began to drip away. It stung to leave, to desert the life he’d never wanted to end… to desert the man he would have laid one of his three lives for. This was the man he married, the man he spent so many years with. But he can’t hurt himself like that again. <em> "I deserve to let you go and build a better version on my own.” </em> He took one last glance at their home, at the walls they had built together. He wiped at his tears, a bitter smile climbing its way to his lips. <em> “Somehow…” </em></p>
<p>A cool wind breezed through the land, flowing through his long locks of ginger hair. The world seemed brighter, yet the mask Dream had given him felt like an anchor in his hand. He wondered how Dream would cope, now that his mask was in Fundy’s possession. He couldn’t believe it, Dream had given him his mask. Fundy shook his head, a small laugh breaking through mouth. <em> He hoped Dream didn’t take it the wrong way </em> . He took in a small inhale of the fresh morning air, the crisp chill of a rising day still clinging to the surroundings. <em> “I feel better already, or at least a bit lighter just by deciding I left you behind.” </em></p>
<p><em> “There's room in my head. Now that getting you back isn't taking up every inch of my mind.” </em>Dream’s empty gaze turned towards his hands, the scars and burn marks that was littered on the skin of his palms a stark reminder of what he had yet to do. Fundy would be safe in his own little country. Dream had many tasks he had yet to accomplish. He felt himself rise from the floor, moving away from the door… but he only found himself standing in front of the window of their living room. He watched the fox hybrid from behind the glass, his hand pressed against the cold surface of the window. He felt his heart skip a beat when Fundy feet slid on their cobblestone steps, but unlike Dream, Fundy took it in stride. There was a bittersweet smile on his ex-husband’s face. The face of the man Dream wished would be the last he’d ever see in the night and the first he’d see in the morning.</p>
<p><em> “It's strange to imagine my everyday without you.” </em> He couldn’t imagine what his life would be once Fundy left. The empty space on their bed. The extra chair in their kitchen. The damning silence of their cabin. Dream would never be able to hold him again, never hear the fox hybrid’s cute laugh that began with a squeal before falling into an airy laugh that rivalled music itself. Dream couldn’t bring himself to imagine what his nights would be like on an empty bed, the chill more prominent without his love by his side. Dream couldn’t bring himself to imagine what his mornings would be like in a desolate house, the solitude pressing into his very soul as he turns around in their bed… and sees nothing but the emptiness. The days will blur into a routine, Dream knew that… but he could never imagine what it would be like to spend a day without the man he had married. He would wake alone. Eat alone. Live alone. Sleep alone. He’d lost his love. Love was truly dead. He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. He killed their love. <em> “Without waking up next to your face.” </em></p>
<p><em> “It's strange that I don't have a clue what'll happen when I leave this place.” </em> Fundy petted the top of Batry’s head, a momentary grief flowing through him as he looked out at the path before him. It was a long walk towards home - towards Dry Waters - but a walk to collect his thoughts would do him good. Batry squeaked, a complaint that urged him to take another step down the stairs. Batry didn’t like the sun, and Fundy felt sorry that Batry got involved with his and Dream’s falling out. He could only hope that the rest of his days would be spent in peace, <em>  “I know for sure it's what I have to do.” </em></p>
<p>His gaze turned towards the window, familiar green eyes stared back at him through the glass. He gave Dream one last smile, a final goodbye to the life they had shared. They tried… but Fundy couldn’t help but feel as if he was missing a crucial detail… one that made him want to turn back. Dream had a frown on his face, but his eyes were devoid of emotion… as if Fundy had sucked the life out of him. Fundy couldn’t help the horrible mix of satisfaction and guilt tha blossomed within him. They both lived through the pain, now it was time for them to recuperate. <em> “I'm leaving now. I'm putting one foot in front of the other now.”  </em></p>
<p> For one last time, he turned back, pressing his own hand on the glass where Dream’s was. Their eyes met, knowing it might be the last time. <em> “I deserve to let you go and built a better version on my own.” </em> With that, Fundy let go. <em> “Somehow.” </em></p>
<p>
  <b>“And if you're listening, I love you. I think I always will.”</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Recall Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He looked down at the pen in his hands, his fingers shaking as he glanced at the blank paper on the table. The small light of the torch illuminated the edges, beckoning him to begin the tirade of words that screamed to the surface of his mind. Batry squeaked above him, nervous flapping echoing through the air as they circled around Fundy’s head. Fundy pursed his lips, pulling him closer to the table. He needed to do this. He could do this. They were just words on a blank piece of paper, they wouldn’t hurt him. Words shouldn’t hurt him… then why was he shivering despite the soft blanket wrapped around his shoulders? He drew it closer to himself, the chill of the room piercing through the cloth.</p><p>It had been a month since he’d last seen Dream. Drywaters was thriving with the combined efforts that he, Niki, and Ranboo had placed into creating a new nation of peace.  New L’Manburg was a distant memory in his mind, a relic of a time that he could barely remember now. Tubbo had come to visit him once, asking when he’d be back. His silence was enough of an answer for Tubbo to turn around and leave. He felt sorry… leaving the young boy by himself in a nation riddled with strangers and nostalgia, but that was Tubbo’s choice to stay. Not Fundy’s. He won’t be guilted into returning. He shook his head, tapping the tip of the pen on the edge of the table. Ink dripped onto the tablecloth, staining the pristine white sheet with black.</p><p>He sighed, placing his head on the table as he wondered how he could possibly begin to do what he had in mind. A painted smile stared at him from the side of the room, the porcelain mask a reminder of what he had to do. The bloodstains were gone, washed off by his own careful hands the moment he got home from that final day they had shared together. He couldn’t help but smile, the ache in his chest not as prominent as it was a month ago. He could do this. He’d long since moved past this. He straightened up, the pen pressing against the paper as the words he wished to say flowed from his fingertips. With each answer, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.</p><p><em> “The whole point of me just writing right now is to hold myself accountable for the feelings I still feel.” </em> It had been a busy month, a new country wasn’t going to raise itself. He had thrown himself into his work, building the foundations of a nation he hoped would never fall. Niki and Ranboo were at his side throughout it all, their positivity and optimism uplifted his soul. Yet, despite everything, he couldn’t help but feel the gnawing guilt that he had left Dream without trying to answer the last questions. Now here he was, writing with a dim and weak light as his only guide. Unlike him, the rest of the residents of the house were asleep. His ears twitched, catching the tell-tale noise of snore… <em> Ranboo’s</em>. He chuckled among the shadows of the room. He had moved on, but he still had one thing left to do. <em> “I thought it was over, thought I was moving forward, but I guess that's why I have this, to show me what's real.” </em></p><p>He could feel that cold gaze from across the room, those blank black eyes piercing at his soul even if he wasn’t looking at it. Niki had told him to toss it away. Ranboo had told him to burn it since it was creepy. He couldn’t bring himself to, everytime he tried he’d only be reminded of how Dream trusted him enough give it to him. <em> “The perils of keepings your ex-spouse's mask in your possession, you're only really saying you've put the past to rest.” </em> He’d heard the stories from Niki and Ranboo, how Dream had disappeared for two weeks before making an appearance, his face on full display. Dream only had one mask it seemed. Fundy didn’t know how to feel about that. Some nights he would feel compelled to grab the mask and stare at it, only to wake up in the morning, the mask carefully placed on top of his chest. <em> “It is all too easy to feed your old obsession. You wanna prove you're moved on, let's put it to the test.” </em></p><p>He couldn't recall a single night where he hadn't fallen asleep, the mask tucked gently in his arms. He couldn't bring himself to store it in a chest, left to decay and mold as the rest of the items he had long since forgotten. Each glance at the porcelain face only sent him back into his mind, wondering if he could do anything differently. <em>"</em>So<em> I look through memories, remember the details, but I wasn't prepared for how it'd feel to recall back.”</em> The days where he would lose himself to the burden of his memories were the worst. He would awake in the day, chipper and ready to work. Then he would startle back into himself in the evening, confused as to how he managed to lose an entire day, reminiscing in memories he swore to never look back on.<em> “It was a painful little recall back. I had a little recall back.”</em></p><p>Niki had to tear him away from the dinner table the first time it happened. There were fresh tears in her eyes, her soft voice asking where he had gone off to. He had glanced at the room, startled at how he hadn't notice anything. He couldn't remember anything that had occured within the day. <em>He didn't tell Niki of his apparent loss of memories</em><em>, brushing it off as him getting lost in his thoughts.</em> <em>"My first</em><em> and last recall back.”</em></p><p>He remembered the day he had left, the sun illuminating his path as he walked away from the life he once dreamed of having. He remembered the deep pit of sadness in those forest green eyes as he uttered a final goodbye to the man he once wished to spend the rest of his life with. He remembered the horrible mess of guilt he had felt once he managed to make his way back to Drywaters. To the present, he still wakes up at night, heart beating in his chest as that tear-stained face lingered in his mind. His first few nights were riddled with restless sleep, a haunting memory of Dream's face following him relentlessly through his nightmares. <em>“And I saw you cry. And I saw 3 minutes of unfiltered honesty.”</em></p><p>His heart pounded, the pen in his grip trembling as the voice of his ex-husband resounded in his mind. Dream had answered the questions, all 36 of them with his heart on his sleeve. Who was to say Fundy had the right to leave it at that? Didn't he lie about some of his answers too... or at least changed them. He let out a hollow sigh, forcing his hand to move as he wrote down his own truth. His heart ached within his chest, a horrible conclusion settling into his being. A month had passed, though the pain had numbed... it didn't mean that he had grown out of the relationship he once cherished. He had moved on, but did his heart ever change? Did his feelings for the blonde change? <em>“I realized I still love you.”</em></p><p>He froze, holding his breath as he waited for the door to his room to slap open. He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but the confession now lingered in the air, suffocating him until all he could do was concentrate on writing. He hoped neither Niki or Ranboo heard it, they didn't need to wake up to him talking about his estranged husband. <em>"Tonight I heard 3 distant voices. A trio of myself saying goodbye.”</em> He wasn't meant to be awake at this time, the moon high in the sky as it blessed the land with its ethereal silver glow. He had tried to sleep, but the longer he stared at the mask, the more he felt guilt at what he had done. He had left Dream in shambles, to the point that he had handed over his only line of defense to Fundy. His regret gnawed at him from the inside, forcing him to think of the past.<em> “I turned over in bed, torn apart by past choices. Time to check memories, my own mind wouldn't lie.”</em></p><p>As his mind bombarded him, he forced himself awake. He thought these horrible spells were gone. He hadn't thought about Dream and him for an entire two weeks, but now the visions were back in full force. He acted upon them, seeking any healthy method he could to be rid of them. Tonight wasn't meant to be any different, but the memories he'd looked back on dragged him in, forced him to face a fact that he wished he could ignore. <em>“So I slipped out of bed, made myself a small snack, and I look through memories and had another recall back.”</em> As the memories played over, he walked through the house, hoping he wouldn't disturb his friends. He tried to drown his sorrows in food, but it did nothing to quell the pain in his chest. <em>“It was a painful little recall back. I had a little recall back.”</em></p><p>He shivered, glancing up at the torchlight that grew dimmer with each passing second. He needed to finish this letter, and he couldn't bring himself to sleep if he didn't. He was running out of time, his resolve crumbling with every second. He poured his thoughts into his words, listening to the memories that played in his mind. They weren't as vivid as the one before, but they served as a reminder of what he needed to do. He needed to do this. If he wanted the painful memories to finally come to an end. Those last two weeks had been bliss. He didn't know why he was having these visions again, but he knew how to stop it. For his own sake and peace of mind, he needed to finish one last task, the final task he had on his list. <em>“That was my last recall back.”</em></p><p>He swallowed down the bitter taste in his throat, the sense of nausea that gripped at his head as he looked back. If he tried to forget, the visions only grew worse. <strike><em>At times he would relive the memory, frozen to follow the script of an event that occured in the past.</em></strike> <em>"And I saw us fight, but I was a coward and I ran away again, that wasn't right.”</em> He had left, satisfied that he had broken his estranged husband's heart. What kind of person would be happy at such a thought? He groaned. He didn't like the way he reacted, didn't like the way felt joy at what he had done. He had every right to leave... but not in the way he did. He left a broken man by his lonesome. He didn't look back, didn't spare a single thought as he raced his way back home. He had run away, like he always did. All he ever did was run. Not this time. He wouldn't run away, he can't run away. He needed to resolve this issue, give them both the peace they deserved. It was time for them to heal. <em>“And I can't afford to be a coward anymore.”</em></p><p>He looked down at the paper, scribbles upon scribbles of words stared back at him. He kept it as it was, knowing it would be more genuine if Dream could say every word he had crossed out, every word that he'd quickly tried to erase but was unable to. It felt genuine. It felt true <em>“Another part of adulting is admitting when you're wrong and doing the hard thing you need to do for yourself.”</em> He took another breath of the chill night air, his back leaning heavily on the back of the chair. He had done it. He did what he needed to do. He did what they both needed him to do. He placed the pen on the table, tapping at the wooden surface as he thought of what came next. Maybe after everything was done, they could finally forget. <em>“For a month I tried to tell myself stay strong, as the guilt of what I'd done destroyed my mental health.”</em></p><p>Niki and Ranboo had been worried when they found him just a few days after he had walked away from Dream. They saw the unshed tears in his eyes, the scars on his hands from hours of work, and knew exactly what had gone wrong. They didn't berate him for breaking the promise he had made, knowing that his heart was already broken to handle another lecture. "<em>You all know what I'm holding and what I just completed, though seeing my own self has never felt this strange.”</em> He had gazed at the memories for as long as he could remember in the previous days. Dream had been wrong to pursue him the first time, what Fundy needed was a break... and he's had that. His mind was clear. He could think about their past with an open and forgiving eye now. He wasn't bogged down by fresh emotion and raw hurt. He was thinking rationally for the first time in many years. <em>“You were right to leave me the mask, you were right to give me distance. Something deep inside of me is ready now to change.”</em></p><p>He stood up, letter in his hand as the light of the torch slowly died behind him. With a purposeful stride, he began to scour the house for an envelope. His tail wagging at having accomplished what he'd promised himself to do a few hours before. It had taken a lot of self convincing, now he was done. He had gotten it over with. <em>“This time when I looked back, I only made it through half because with 16 answers of mine missing, I can't just recall back.”</em> It hadn't been fair of him to listen to his husband's answers without answering any of them back. This was his chance to fix his mistake. He only hoped that Dream would find it... that he hadn't left the cabin to rot. Fundy wouldn't blame the blonde if he did. Why stay in a place that only brought misery, after all? <em>"It's not enough to recall back. I can't just recall back.”</em></p><p>He found an envelope in one of the drawers, the edges caked with yellow stains. Fundy winced, but it would have to do. He folded the letter, placed it in. Now all he needed to do was sign it and leave it for Dream to find. He only hoped that the man hadn't left, that Fundy could still find him to give him his final answers. <em>“I have to do more than recall back. It's not enough to recall back.”</em> He held the envelope against his chest, a sense of euphoria flooded into his bones. He was actually doing this, wasn't he? He smiled despite himself, knowing that this might just be it for the both of them. Maybe it would finally end with one last letter. <strike><em>Though a part of him didn't wish it were so, maybe they could... He didn't know what they could</em></strike><em> <strike>do. Fundy just knew he had to end it in this way. What happens next would be up to the both of them.</strike></em> <em>"I can't just recall back.”</em> It was time to have a trip down memory lane.</p><p>
  <strong>“I have to do more than recall back.”</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Small Letter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The cabin looked well tended to, the flowers on the windowsill thriving and in full bloom. Fundy glanced at the recently cleaned glass windows, a breeze combing through his hair as he gripped the letter in his hands. He breathed in the sweet summer air, his heart pounding as he took a single step on the familiar cobblestone stairs. The blood had been scrubbed away, as if it had never been there at all. His ears twitched at the top of his head, straining to hear a semblance of life within the cabin. It was silent, a peaceful tune that eased his nervousness into a lull of calm. He steeled himself and began to climb up towards the cabin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patches of grass tickled the skin of his ankles as he entered the front garden, the scent of irises, roses, limes, and oranges lingered in the air. In a matter of seconds, he stood at the oaken doorway, the sun on his shoulders as he looked up at the wooden surface. He could remember the creak of the door, the sound of wood cracking as he ran off the first time. He remembered leaving the second time, Dream’s devastated figure illuminated by the faint light that came from within the cabin. He remembered leaving the third time, the door remaining closed as if he was no longer welcomed into the quaint abode.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The envelope crinkled in his grasp. He had to do this. He took one last look at the letter, glancing over any mistake that could lead to the wrong message being sent. It was perfect, ya? He wrote it after all. Ya, Fundy wrote it, there’s no possible way he could have gotten any of it wrong. So why did his fingers tremble? He should slide the letter in the space beneath the door, hoping that Dream would find it the moment he came back home… if Dream still lived there that is. Fundy rocked on the balls of his feet, squashing the urge to run down the stairs and scurry back to Drywaters. He needed to make this quick. For all he knew Dream might even be within the cabin, watching him from one of the windows. He shuddered at the thought of being stared at, completely oblivious to those piercing green eyes. No. No. No. Dream wasn’t at home, he must be busy causing chaos for everyone else. Ya. Ya. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yaaaaaaa.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fundy had nothing to worry about. He definitely had nothing to worry about.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“To you Dream, I owe you some answers. 16 to be exact.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He knew the chances of the blonde hearing him were slim, but in the case that Dream was home, Fundy wanted to say his piece. He held the letter to his chest, memorizing the words he had written. He had spent a portion of his night writing and the rest of it wondering what Dream was doing. He trusted Niki and Ranboo, he really did. He just couldn’t tell if their stories were true or not. After all, why paint Dream in a good light when they knew Fundy needed to move on? Fundy had to know for himself. He wanted to see if Dream had grown better within the month, like he did. He glanced down at the letter, swallowing his pride. He was here at the home they once shared, though he promised himself to never return. He was here for one purpose. It didn’t matter if Dream never found the letter, Fundy had done what he needed to do.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “I took a moment to write these answers. You'll find them all right here.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dropped the envelope on the doorstep, a cute mat with a smiley face on it looked up at him with judging eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, place it and double check it and leaving it. I don't expect a response from you.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t help himself as he picked up the envelope once more, eyes scouring through the contents of the letter before he finally forced himself to shove the envelope in the space beneath the door. There it was done. He couldn’t get the letter back now. He had done it. He was moving forward now. It was done. It was over… just like that. He ran a hand through his hair, a fog settling in his mind. He began to pace on the smooth stone pathway, his steps echoing off the ground and into the spring air. He didn’t know what to do. He should know what to do now. What now? Did he want a response? What did he want?</span>
  <em>
    <span> “In fact, it's probably best you don't.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No. No. No. He had written the letter for both of their sakes. Not so Dream could forgive him or anything. He didn’t need his estranged husband’s mercy. He scoffed into his hand, shaking his head at the thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I'm not looking for forgiveness. I'm only giving you what you are owed.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream had given him his honest answers, it was only right that Fundy did the same, right? He glanced at the house, at the well-cared for garden, itching to leave it behind. He remained where he stood, his heart aching in his chest. This used to be his safe haven, now it felt as if the house wanted to swallow him whole. He backed away, nearly toppling over the edge of the stairs. He had done what he needed to do. He needed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>leave</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He shivered. No. No. No. He was okay. He was getting nervous, that was all. He took a breath, willing the panic in his chest to disappear and ebb away. He had left his own answers for Dream to find. That was the last thing. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be the last thing.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “In the small letter, it's all there in the small letter.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He placed his head in hands, groaning loudly into the air. No one would hear him and if they did they should mind their own business and fuck off. He felt the tip of his hat at the edge of his fingertips. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“All that's left now is to leave here and the weight of the choice will be gone.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He couldn’t get the letter even if he wanted to… unless he broke down the door but he didn’t want Dream thinking that someone had found his… secret base? He took off his hat, clutching it close to his face as he tried to get his legs to move. He needed to at least do something. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the soft strands in between his fingers. His letter was enough of an explanation, not that he needed to explain himself to Dream or anyone really. The option of breaking down the door was beginning to look like a good idea with every second he stayed. No. No. No. He can’t do that. It should be easy to leave. </span>
  <em>
    <span>UGHHHHHHHHHHHH. “Nothing I need to say left unsaid.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He found himself turning around, the bright expanse of land before him a mockery of the conflicting emotions that roiled in his gut. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Those 16 questions did their job and now this can end with a small letter full of feelings and deepest regrets.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He glanced at the ground below him, at the cobblestone steps that beckoned him to leave. He left thrice before he could do it again, right? </span>
  <em>
    <span>RIGHT? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He placed a hand on the side of his head, begging himself to make the first move. It was easy, Fundy. One foot in front of the other. Then you place the other one in front of the other. Repeat until he gets back to Drywaters… where he’ll get interrogated. He hadn’t left Drywaters in a month. What would Ranboo and Niki think of him just leaving out of the blue like that? He didn’t even leave them a note or a sign. He knew that he was screwed when he got back.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “I just have to leave now.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One━ He let out a screech of misery, falling to the ground as he ruffled his own hair. What would Dream think of the letter?! One month. All it took was a month for Fundy to come crawling back… but he wasn’t crawling back, was he? No. No. No. He just wanted to give his answers. Nothing more or less. But... </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh Dre, is it weird that I am writing my ex-spouse out of the blue? Are there any answers he could misconstrue?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He thought of how Dream would react the moment he found the letter. Would he toss it in the fireplace or would he take the time to read </span>
  <em>
    <span>before</span>
  </em>
  <span> he tossed it into the fireplace? Would Dream hunt him down to Drywaters, demand an answer or take one of his two lives for bringing up old </span>
  <em>
    <span>shit</span>
  </em>
  <span> again? </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course, he could and of course he will scrutinize my answers, think I'm full of shit.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Had Fundy waited too long? Would Dream even care about what he had to say at this point? And... Why did he worry so much about how Dream would react? </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wonder why it took me weeks to get this over with. That's fine.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, firstly why did any of that matter anyway? Ya… </span>
  <em>
    <span>YAAAAAA</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t care, of course not. He definitely wasn’t heading back towards… the door or anything. He definitely wasn’t looking at it like a cat who accidentally got left out in the rain or anything. He shook his head, looking down at his hat. Dream had left him his mask, Fundy should return the favor, right? Besides… that day Dream had returned his hat… Fundy had hoped the storm would destroy it. His hat held nothing but a memory of a man long gone. With a sigh, he placed it on the ground. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Who cares? Who cares?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>No one would ever know, and maybe Dream would never find the hat. Why did it matter for his only witness - if it be so - were the silent flowers of the garden. With that final gesture, he turned around to leave. He was content with leaving now. He smiled, finding the confidence he thought he’d lost. He didn’t care anymore.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Not me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t look back as he left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Gone. I’m gone. I left it. I left you the letter with my answers on it. And now I've sent my final message.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He walked with his head held high, his legs finally moving on their own accord. His tail wagged behind him, a burden in his heart disappearing as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He began the long journey home, his hands shoved into his pockets as he took in the beauty of the world before him. Drywaters was magnificent, but Fundy missed the spring scene, the flowers that bloomed as warm sunlight blessed and kissed the earth with its gentle love.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “And now I've had the final word. This love affair ends with a 1-page small letter, that’s quite old-school of me.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>It had felt more personal, more real if he had done it by hand instead of sending a message through the communicators. He wasn’t sure he could have handled sending such a message through the comms, knowing that anyone could jump in if they wanted to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“How absurd.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He shook his head, laughing despite himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“But I can finally move on now.”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Can he actually move on now?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“No more living in the past.”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Just stop living in the past?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No more hoarding all my answers, each and every single one of them…” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The letter he had left was enough. He didn’t know what would come after, didn’t know what he wanted to come after, but for the moment it was enough. Dream may or may not read it. He may never find it, and thus the letter would be left in an abandoned house… a relic of his past. Fundy continued to walk away, his worry gone from his chest. He had done what he needed and wanted to do. It didn’t matter at that moment what came next, Fundy was content and maybe that was enough. He needed to take it one step at a time, one  day at a time, one memory at the time. He let out a breathe, he felt free for the moment. He didn’t know what the future held, what the consequences of what he’d done were, but he’d get through them. He was a survivor after all. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I left written.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tugged his black jacket closer to himself, a soft breeze billowing through the land. He kept walking, leaving behind the letter he had poured his heart and soul into, knowing that if Lady Fate willed it to be… Dream would find it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Here's to never looking back. All my answers are written.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looked up at rolling clouds above, their wispy forms floating through the sky. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Here's to never looking back. All my answers are written.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt the wind pick up, the edges of his jacket flapping in the air. A peace had settled in his bones, a calmness he hadn’t felt in such a long time. It felt like coming home to - not a lover’s embrace - but to a space where he felt like he could be himself. The smell of daffodils reached his nose, a giddy sense of euphoria filled his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Here's to never looking back. All my answers are written.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was content for now, and that was all that mattered. From now on, he was free to choose what he wanted to do after everything he’d gone through. He was free to decide what happened next. And what came next? Well, he had a country to run.</span>
  <em>
    <span> “Here's to never looking back. All my answers are written.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ran a hand through his hair. Having walked a good distance away from the cabin, he knew that if he turned around, all he’d see was a field dotted with flowers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Here's to never looking back. All my answers are written.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughed, </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, it's over.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He didn’t spare a single glance back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>
    <em>“Oh my Dre, it's really over.”</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Author's Note</h2></a>
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    <p>Hello! Sorry, sorry this isn't the final chapter! I'm sorry! This is an Author's Note, a sort of heads-up since I did mention in the beginning that this story is actually a draft. I am currently editing previous chapters and actually plan to publish this so even guests can read it! Again, I apologize that this isn't the final chapter since I wanted to publish the actual final chapter (not a draft essentially)... So sorry for the cliffhanger :(</p><p>I'll be publishing the final version of this story tomorrow under the name 'The Final Answer' instead. For those who've been here since the beginning, I want to thank you so much for sticking it out and I apologize for leaving this draft version like this. You guys don't have to read the final story since chances are I'll just be adding minor details and spelling corrections and such.</p><p>But thank you so much for everyone who has read this fic! The final version will be out tomorrow. Again, I'm sorry for leaving the drafted version like this :(</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi, I know I already posted my notes above, but this is just in case you guys don't read notes... Pls do tell me if I need to change something or remove something! Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you guys like this! Bye bye!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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